


nyctophilia

by BayleyWinchester



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: 1920's, Crimes & Criminals, Detective Noir, Detective Shane Madej, Detectives, Enemies to Lovers, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Road Trips, Serial Killer Ryan Bergara, Serial Killers, Slow Burn, Trains, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 01:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16692955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BayleyWinchester/pseuds/BayleyWinchester
Summary: Shane Madej was LA's best detective. He never let a case go unsolved. Until Ryan Bergara; California's most wanted man.He would do anything to bring Ryan down. Well, he would have done anything.~~~~~Dear Shane,I hear you’re the new lead detective on my case now. ‘The Golden Killer’. I hate that name if I’m being honest. It’s tacky and unoriginal, don’t you think? But, that’s bygones and hardly our fault. Congratulations, by the way. I’m sure a lot of people want to have their name on my arrest record. And, if you’re worth your salt, you’ll be the guy. Anyway, I’m writing to let you know that I know that you’re looking for me. The last detective wasn’t very good if I’m being totally honest. I’m actually excited to see how you do. Apparently, you’re very good at what you do, I wonder if I’ll be your downfall?Love, R.B





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> A mild warning - Ryan is a killer and there is talk about the killings but there won't be anything graphic. 
> 
> Also, this is my first Ryan/Shane fic so let me know what you think!
> 
> Come scream with me about BFU over on my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/wheezeit)

**Nyctophilia** .  _ noun _ . An attraction to darkness or night; finding relaxation or comfort in the darkness.

~~

Shane stepped into a that was shrouded in mist alleyway. It had been raining all morning, leaving the town foggy and dark. A few hazy figures were leaning against the walls, watching him as he walked down. One of them caught a glimpse of Shane’s face, pushed himself off the wall, and scampered away. Shane grinned. 

At the end of the alleyway sat a small bar. No normal person would go here. It always looked closed, the blinds pulled and sign off. But that wasn’t the case. No, in fact, it almost always had someone in there. Sitting on the broken stools and drinking the cheap whiskey. All the people in the bar could be arrested right now, after all - drinking and selling any type of alcohol was strictly forbidden. But Shane only ever came here for information. People here knew things, things that Shane would pay for. And he wouldn’t get the information he needed if he busted the bar every time he came in. As he expected, inside there were some men hiding their faces and a women pouring drinks at the bar. When he walked in she nodded and pulled down a new glass. 

Sitting in the corner was one of the rickest tables in the joint. Sitting at said table was another man, his hat pulled low and his coat pulled around him. Shane sat down opposite him. A glass of water was put down in front of him and he nodded to the lady. The man looked up, frowning at Shane. “What?” He asked, his voice muffled and deep, his fingers tapping on the table. 

“I heard that you know The Golden Killer.” 

“So what?”

“I’m looking for him.”

The man laughed, a gruff thing filled with years of smoke collecting in his lungs. “Of course you are.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“No one knows where he is. He finds you.”

“Well, there’s a first for everything. Right?”

With a shake of his head, the man drank the rest of his whiskey. “If you want to find him, you have to let him find you.”

“And how do I do that?”

“No idea,” the man shrugged as he stood. “Good luck though.” 

Shane lent back in his chair, stretching his legs out under the table. With a sigh, he took a sip of the water. As much as he would be drinking right now, he had to go back to the station and turning up with whiskey on your breath wasn’t a good idea. But he wished he could drink. He had been chasing ‘The Golden Killer’ for three months and was nowhere closer to him then when he had started. Which was annoying for many reasons, the most notable being that he was losing his respect. He was once the most feared and loved detective in LA and now he was nothing more than a rookie who couldn’t catch one man. 

But The Golden Killer wasn’t just any old criminal. No. He was smart. Smarter than anyone Shane had seen in all his years on the force. Shane was starting to get a little desperate if he was being completely honest, hence sitting in a seedy bar and talking to someone who had ten arrest warrants to his name. He was willing to do anything to get the bastard in handcuffs and in the slammer. Anything. 

With his own sigh, Shane stood, flicked some coins down onto the bar and walked out. He had gotten nowhere - again. In the alleyway a cat ran past his feet, hissing at him on its way. A baby in one of the shoebox apartments above him started crying. A man was slumped against the wall on one side, clearly drunk and moaning like the devil. Another man walked into the alley as Shane walked out, his hands stuffed into his coat and his head bowed down. 

The station was only a few blocks away, a few minutes at most, but Shane still took his time to get there. TJ, his CO, could be a right prick some days. He really didn’t want to deal with that. As he turned onto another street a woman came up to him, hands out to beg. Shane reached into his pocket and pulled out some coins before she could even speak he handed them to here. A sob of thanks and a string of ‘God bless you’ followed. Shane had to hold in a scoff at the latter. 

“There you are!” TJ said when Shane walked into the precinct. A cigar was hanging out of his mouth and a stack of files sat under his arm. “I have another body for you.”

And Shane was having  _ such _ a good day. 

~~

Ryan watched his feet as he walked down the crowded street. A man in a dark coat pushed against his shoulder as he walked past, calling out to watch it as he walked away but Ryan didn’t react. He could hardly do anything at that moment. His hands were blood soaked in his pockets, he wasn’t dumb enough to pull them out. 

He was walking home from his latest crime scene. The ass had it coming for a long time in Ryan’s eyes. Contrary to popular belief Ryan was some crazy loon who needed a straight jacket and a lobotomy. No, he only killed when the situation called for it. Which, to be fair, was more often than not. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that the man lying outside his apartment wouldn’t be bothering dames anymore.

Turning down the alley towards one of his favourite spots in the city Ryan nearly ran into a tall man walking out. He ignored him and kept on walking. This bar was one of the only placed Ryan didn’t feel the need to look over his shoulder constantly. Which was weird in its own right, seeing as everything about the place was just as illegal as Ryan was. Inside was just as dark as the street outside, but a hell of a lot warmer. Rita, the barmaid, poured a drink as soon as Ryan walked in. 

He slumped down at the bar, a drink and a pile of napkins being pushed in front of him. He smiled as much as he could up at Rita before starting to wipe at his hands. Rita leaned against the counter in front of him. “Someone was in here looking for you.”

“Oh?”

“A cop.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t be bringing them over here, ‘kay?”

Shaking his head, Ryan took a sip. “I’ll try not to. Did you recognise him?”

“It was the regular one. Comes in once a month, doesn’t arrest anyone or care that we’re here. He just wants information.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open.”

“Tall man, lanky as all hell. Kinda cute if I’m being honest.”

Ryan shook his head again, this time in a tired fondness. Rita wriggled her eyes before disappearing to kick someone out. Ryan took another sip. He was exhausted and it was only 11 am. His plan for the rest of the time was finishing his drink and head home to sleep. But, as always, his plan was interrupted. 

The man that sat next to Ryan slid a business card across the bar. “The detective who’s after you is the best in the game.”

“Is that so?” 

“Never not caught someone he was after.”

“There’s a first time for everything, right?” 

A brisk laugh left the man, followed by him shaking his head. “You’re good Bergara, but I don’t think you’re this good.”

“We’ll see,” Ryan shrugged. The man stood up and walked out of the bar, mock saluting Rita as he left. A crisp white card was sitting beside Ryan’s drink.  _ Shane Madej, Detective at the LA police forc _ e. An address stared up at him. It looked like Ryan had a letter to write and a detective to tease. 

Leaving a note on the bar Ryan walked out, back into the alleyway. He stepped over a puddle of something (probably blood) and into the street. The rain had picked back up, water poured down the road, a few kids splashed in puddles as mothers yelled at them to get inside. Ryan smiled at them as he walked past. His house wasn’t very far away, but even in the short distance, he got soaked. His coat was clinging to his body, his shoes were filled with water and his hat had gathered water along the brim. 

His apartment wasn’t anything to get excited over. It was just a standard place, a small one-room thing with a bathroom. Really it was all he needed, but he was thankful for it. Most people would kill for something like this right now. Buzzfeed, the newspaper he wrote for, paid better than most places thanks to the depression. So yeah, he was happy about it. He hung his hat up, peeled his coat off and hung it over the back of his chair. The column that he wrote on a Monday and Thursday was due in the morning. Which was great, seeing as he just created his latest column. 

When his editor, Devon, had asked him to write updates on ‘The Golden Killer’ two and half months ago he had been ecstatic. All he had to do was figure out how much the police knew at that time and then bam, he could write what he had done. It was easy and a great way to stay in contact with the police station. After turning on the stove and starting some soup he started working. 

He was able to finish that quickly, it is not hard to write about something you did. And once he was done he pulled another pad of paper out and started his letter.

_ Dear Shane _ .


	2. Chapter 2

_ Dear Shane,  _

_ I hear you’re the new lead detective on my case now. ‘The Golden Killer’. I hate that name if I’m being honest. It’s tacky and unoriginal, don’t you think? But, that’s bygones and hardly our fault. Congratulations, by the way. I’m sure a lot of people want to have their name on my arrest record. And, if you’re worth your salt, you’ll be the guy. Anyway, I’m writing to let you know that I know that you’re looking for me. The last detective wasn’t very good if I’m being totally honest. I’m actually excited to see how you do. Apparently, you’re very good at what you do, I wonder if I’ll be your downfall? _

_ Love, R.B _

Shane put the letter down, lent back in his chair and sighed. He had just gotten back from the crime scene, arriving to the letter from the man he was chasing on his desk. It was the first time this had happened to Shane. In fact, he couldn’t think of a single time the criminal had contacted the officer. Either ‘RB’ was incredibly stupid, or amazingly smart. And Shane didn’t think RB was stupid. 

“He’s a tricky bastard,” another detective - Brent - said as he walked up to Shane’s desk. “I had to take myself of the case, I was going crazy.”

“Did he send you letters as well?” 

Brent nodded with a sigh, Shane was about to ask why he hadn’t seen them but Brent beat him to it. “They lead nowhere, mostly he just talked about different haunted locations.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he’s really into the paranormal or something. Or he would discuss other criminals, give his theories on them, He was pretty good actually,” Brent shrugged. There wasn’t much that Shane could say to that if he was being honest. “He’ll be waiting for a reply.”

“He wants me to reply?”

Another shrug, “if I didn’t reply I’d get more letters complaining. I’ll get you the address.”

Shane watched as Brent walked away, chatting to other detectives about their cases; cases that they could solve by the end of the week. Opening the case file Shane sighed again, which he seemed to be doing even more now. The latest victim was one Jimmy Dorris, notorious for doing what he wanted to women and getting away with it because of his lined pockets. Shane couldn’t say he was sad to see him dead. But, it was still a crime and he still needed to solve it. 

RB (which is what Shane would be calling him from now - he was right, The Golden Killer was tacky) was unlike other serial killers in many ways. But the most noticeable was that he never took a token. He didn’t draw out the crime, didn’t appear to relish in it, it was very in and out. Almost professional. If he didn’t know any better, he’d assume a hit man had done it. It was, for lack of a better term, an interesting case. One that Shane would rather be watching from the sidelines and not trying to solve. 

~~

Ryan was walking down the road, hunched over and unassuming. It was still raining, albeit lightly now, so he was wearing his coat and hat, which worked as a disguise. People could never tell it was him when he wore this. So he was thankful when it was wet or cold enough to wear something like this when he went to pick up his letters. He didn’t need anyone spotting him and recognizing who he was when he was at the letterbox to get his letters, that wouldn’t help him at all. Sadly, today there was no letter in his hands when he left, however - it looked like Shane hadn’t replied to him yet.

He was heading towards the bar. A friend was going to be meeting him there for lunch. The bar was already rather full when he arrived, but there was a table towards the back the back that he took. As he walked through the bar he heard a man at the bar bragging about getting away with murdering his sister-in-law for not sleeping with him. There wasn’t much he could do in the bar, Rita would probably kick him out if he did kill the man. But, there was someone else he could talk to. 

“Who’s that?” Ryan asked a man he knew in passing, nodding the bragging man.

“Joseph King. Killed his brother’s wife, Jacqueline, because she wasn’t a slut. No one suspects him, I think the husband is the main suspect actually. But he’s acting as if the case is closed or something.”

Ryan said his thanks and continued to the table. Rita brought him a drink. He took a sip and reached into his pocket. He frowned when he felt a silky fabric. His coat was coarse cotton. Pulling it out he was surprised to see a blood-covered rectangle of purple silk. Not a normal thing Ryan carried. He guessed it was his latest victims, he was the type of guy to wear this.  

Not wanting to keep it for much longer Ryan pulled up his briefcase. He found a loose piece of paper and a pen, as well as an envelope. He scribbled out a quick note explaining what was in the package and who to blame for a particular murder. Sealed it away and took another sip, just in time for his friend to arrive for their lunch. 

~~

The next morning, Shane arrived to work after getting no sleep to two more letters. One had the same handwriting as yesterday's and the other was someone knew. He wasted no time ripping into the first one. Inside was another note, along with a scrap of fabric that looked like a torn piece of a shirt. 

_ Shane, I found this tucked into my pocket this morning. It’s not mine. Figured you’d need it more than me.  _

_ Love, R.B.  _

_ P.S Mrs Jacqueline King’s killer is Joseph King. I heard him talking about it in a bar. _

It only took Shane a moment to read but it took him a long time to process. When he had found out that he would be receiving letters he hadn’t known what to expect - but this wasn’t it at all. Who would have guessed this? Had he really just given up a piece of evidence that could help with the case? Shane hadn’t begged RB for the kind of guy who needed the world to know. But, then again, he did send letters which was risky enough. Perhaps he needed that validation. After he had re-read the letter a few times he motioned for another junior detective. 

“The King case, look into Joseph King. Her husband’s brother,” Shane ordered. The officer nodded and ran off. That was a perk of being one of the senior detectives in the precinct. He was respected by everyone. The second letter was stamped ‘Buzzfeed News’. Inside was a note written in a neat cursive, Shane skimmed over it. It was basically just asking if he would so an exclusive interview with one of their writers about RB. 

Shane got to work writing back to the two of them. He started with Devon, the easier of the two to reply to. Interviews were just apart of the job description when you have such a high profile case. People always wanted to know what was happening in their town. And right now they were even more worried because of the string of murders all connected to one man.

_ Devon, _

_ If you send the writer tomorrow at ten am I can talk to him for half an hour. I hope that suits you and him. He can come into the station and I can show him some of the work we’ve been doing. I am aware of the public worry, perhaps if we release this the worry will be curbed slightly. I will be able to share a small amount, however, there will be things that we can not release to the public at the present moment.  _

_ Thank you, _

_ Shane Madej. _

_ LA Detective. _

He quickly told the receptionist that they would be expecting a journalist and booked one of the public rooms so that they would be alone and ignored. Once that was all finished Shane started his letter to RB. This one was a lot harder to write, after all, how do you talk to a serial killer who you’re trying to capture? Still, he got a new piece of paper and clicked his pen on with a sigh. He could do this. 

_ Dear R.B _

_ I agree. The Golden Killer sounds like something from a book that I wouldn’t want to read but is extremely popular. Thank you for the piece of fabric, we’re going to look into it now and hopefully, that helps us catch you. Also, thank you for letting me know that you’re aware of me. It’s always nice to know that the people I’m looking for are aware that I am. It makes it more fun, doesn’t it? And I do believe that I am ‘worth my salt’ so I think that I will have you in handcuffs at some point, and I look forward to the day that I do.  _

_ Shane Madej, _

_ LA Detective. _

Both letters were sent out as soon as he was done writing them. And then it was back to work on RB’s case. There wasn’t much known on the man. A basic description from one witness made him shorter and dark haired. Aside from that, there wasn’t much. They knew that he was known in the criminal community, most likely frequenting the bar that Shane went to the day before as most did. So yeah; short, dark-haired, and a known (and maybe liked or at least respected) criminal. Not much to go on. But Shane had worked and solved cases with less. 

He spent the next few hours going back over witness statements and testimonies. He basically went over everything he had been given. A brown folder with a few loose pieces of paper. Which was unusually small for a man with as many kills as RB. No one had any ideas of who it could be. Shane stood, stretched, and grabbed his coat. There was a possible witness from last night’s murder that he could interview. Hopefully, that would give him something that he could work with.

As he walked past the front desk, the receptionist called out for him. “Shane. There are two letters for you, they just arrived.”

“Thanks,” he said as took them. He walked out of the door as he opened the first one, it was just Devon saying thank you, nothing exciting. The second letter was in the envelope he had sent to RB, only the address was crossed out and his name was written across the top. Just his name. Shane turned back around and basically ran up the street to the precinct. “Hey,” he said as soon as he was at the front desk, “who delivered these?” 

“Uh, the mailman delivered that one-” she pointed to Devon’s “-and that one was just on my desk when I got back from lunch. I don’t know who put it there. Why?” 

“He’s taunting me.” 

“Who?”

Shane shook his head, “The Golden Killer.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sorry that I didn’t see anything. He must have been waiting for me to leave so he wasn’t caught.”

“Probably. Otherwise, you’d be able to ID him. Was there anything else with the letter?” She shook her head sadly at the question. 

Shane smiled as best he could before going back to his desk to open the letter. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see in the envelope, anything was possible with this kind of man. What he was not expecting, however, was to see his own handwriting. His own letter staring back up at him, only the final sentence underlined in red and then ‘Kinky’ written beside it. Shane’s eyes went wide and he shoved the letter into his coat pocket. He looked around, making sure no one else had seen it - he did not want to, nor did he need to, explain that to anyone. Shane took out his paper and wrote a new letter to RB. 

_ RB, _

_ You’re smarter than people give you credit for. How long did you have to wait outside? That’s ballsy - even for you. Waiting outside the police precinct. However, I don’t like what my letter contained. Please feel free to come and discuss why you sent it to me in person. I’m sure you know where my desk is. You don’t even have to sign in. _

_ Shane. _

_ LA Detective. _


	3. Chapter 3

When Shane walked into the precinct the next morning TJ was waiting for him at his desk, a stern look on his face. Shane tilted his head as he walked up. TJ handed him an envelope with his name on it. “William found this on the front steps, I guess it’s for you,” TJ said and handed the envelope over. Shane recognised the handwriting instantly. “You have an interview today, right?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Try and curb panic, don’t say anything that even hints at us not knowing anything. Writers are worse than the criminals.”

“Will do.”

“And then find this dick.”

“Will do,” Shane muttered again. TJ rolled his eyes and walked away. Shane sat down at his desk and released the envelope from his vice-like grip. Looks like RB hadn’t taken Shane’s invitation to come to the precinct. Shane opened the envelope, and like always, had no idea what to expect. 

_ Shane,  _

_ I didn’t wait outside for too long. A few minutes max, I know my way around the precinct and it’s timetable already. (A hint for you - just because you’re funny). And thanks, I guess we just need to figure out which of us is smarter, huh? I’ll be at the precinct soon enough, but not because you brought me in, or anyone else for that matter. My choice. Now, to the topic of my last letter. Don’t write to me about how you can’t wait to see me in handcuffs and not expect something back. I couldn’t leave that alone. Sorry that it embarrassed you, I didn’t mean to. Did someone else see it? That’d be funny. I’ve got to go, work calls. _

_ Love, RB _ .

A small smirk appeared on Shane’s face as he read over the letter. As much as he disliked this guy just on principle, RB was funny. If he wasn’t a very wanted criminal then Shane could see himself becoming friends with him. Maybe. In a different life and a different time perhaps. A quick glance at the clock showed that he had only a few minutes before his interview was scheduled. Enough time to get a reply written. Oddly enough, writing back and forth to RB was becoming a strange sort of highlight of Shane’s day. 

_ RB, _

_ Glad you didn’t have to wait too long. There’s a chill in the air right now, plenty of people getting sick. Suppose it would be fitting if you did get sick. I think I’m smarter, apparently, you like ghosts and ghouls, anyone smart knows that they’re not real. Fairytales and nothing more. Ghosts, demons, the lot of them. No, no one saw the letter you sent me, luckily. And you didn’t embarrass me. I just didn’t like it. I don’t even know your name and you’re off talking about your kinks. Let me know your name then we can talk handcuffs.  _

_ Shane. _

Just as Shane sealed the envelope up the door opened, an icy chill sweeping across the precinct floor. He heard his name being called, and when he looked up the receptionist was standing beside a man Shane had never seen before. Shane stood, straightened out his jacket, and made his way over. “Shane Madej, detective,” he said, shaking hands with the man. His first impression was, well, cute. The little reporter was cute and Shane didn’t feel bad for thinking it.

“Ryan Bergara. Buzzfeed writer. Lovely to meet you.”

“You too,” Shane nodded. “Shall we.”

The two of them made their way to one of the public rooms on the second floor, as they walked up Shane racked his brain to think of something to say. For a reason beyond him, he really wanted this guy to like him. He had only just met him yet he already felt like they would be good friends. It was dumb, he knew that much. But the feeling was still there, and damn him if he didn’t act upon it. “In here,” Shane opened the door for Ryan when they reached the right room. They weren’t much, usually, they were used to talk to families or witnesses. Just a sofa, a table and a chair. In the fancier room, there was a painting of the countryside, but that was being used already.

“Thanks,” Ryan said as he walked in. “I’m glad we’re doing this. Everyone’s been on my case to find out more.”

“Yeah, I know how that feels.”

“It must be stressful, being given one of the biggest cases of, well ever really.”

Shane shrugged, “it can be. But it’s rewarding. I’m doing everything I can to bring this man in and bring his victims the - uh - the justice they deserve.”

“Off the record, why’d you hesitate?” 

“Off the record?” Shane repeated for clarity. Just in case. Ryan made a show of flipping his notebook closed and in his pocket. Shane wheezed out a laugh at the gesture. “A lot of the victims weren’t people of high standing, they weren’t liked. The running theory is that he’s a vigilante.”

Ryan tilted his head, “an interesting theory. I’m sure most would agree if I’m being honest.” 

“Yeah?”

“People are terrified of this guy, they truly are, but at the same time. Well, it can’t go unnoticed that he’s only killing people that have hurt others,” Ryan explained. Shane nodded, that was exactly it. Clearly, Ryan knew what he was talking about, or at least it seemed that way to Shane. “Now, let’s go on the record. And let’s start with a hard question, how close are you to catching this guy?”

“We - we’re doing absolutely everything we can. There are different avenues of investigation that we’re doing right now. And we have a handful of suspects that we’re watching,” Shane explained. He felt - bad that he was lying to Ryan. That hardly ever happened, lying to the press was just something he did. After a few weeks, he had become immune to it. But right now was different. “The entire police force is working towards catching this guy.” 

As Shane spoke Ryan was scribbling in his notebook, the pencil scratching against the paper. “And can we know who these people are?”

“No. But I can tell that you that we are monitoring them.”

“You said that already.” 

“Can’t say much else.”

A small laugh left Ryan at that, and he nodded along as he finished his writing. He paused for a moment, reading over his notes and tapping his pencil on the top of the pad three times. “I asked people out there, I asked them what was the worst thing about him. The vast majority said that it was that no one knows who’s actually his victim. See, there are rumours that there are other victims that we’re not told about. Does this hold any ground or do the police share all the murders?”

“We release all the information we can.” 

“So that’s a no.”

“Uh, no. We can’t release everything, it’d compromise the case.” 

“Which is just code for - no,” Ryan said casually. Shane shook his head and went to start denying it. But, internally, he was impressed. This man must have a good sense of how police work, and how they interact with the people and the media. He went to speak when Ryan interrupted him. “I’ve been doing this a while. Now, this has come up because there was a murder two nights ago that some think was the Golden Killer but it hasn’t been confirmed.” 

Shane was impressed. “We wanted to make sure that we knew the origin of the crime so that we did not needlessly worry people. But yes, we can confirm that it was him two nights ago, we were planning on releasing this information tonight but I’m sure you can do it.”

“Thanks. My editor will love this,” Ryan smiled as the door opened. A junior detective walked in, head bowed, and handed Shane an envelope. Shane took it and sighed, the handwriting was completely recognizable. “What’s this?” Ryan asked. 

“He sends us letters.”

“Letters?” Ryan asked and Shane nodded as he opened it. “At least he has style.”

“What?” Shane asked, his head snapping up. “Style?”

Ryan laughed and shrugged. “Off the record, don’t worry. If you’re going to be a criminal at least have something different, right? And this is like, extra special. He’s teasing you.”

“Okay. I see what you mean, and sure. I mean, I don’t approve of serial killers but I think I if you’re gonna kill a bunch of people - you might have some fun with it. Letters are pretty ballsy.” 

“Ballsy, huh?”

“Yeah. He’s sitting down to write a letter that might lead to him being caught, for what? The fun of it? I’d say that he’s pretty ballsy.”

“I wonder how he would react to hearing you say that?” Ryan said with a light laugh. Shane shrugged in response, somewhat surprised at how this interview had gone. “I’ll leave you alone now, so you can read your letter and catch this guy.”

The two of them stood up, shook each other’s hands and then went on their own way. Shane went back to his desk, the letter clutched tightly in hand. He had a long day ahead of him, and it was only eleven am. Ryan was headed towards the Buzzfeed building that was a few blocks downtown, he only had a few hours to get his column done and on Devon’s desk. He had a hell of an article to write. 

~~

At his desk, Shane opened the letter in his hands. The junior detective had said that it had been left at the reception, and had been found just after he had left with Ryan. Shane sighed as he opened it, curious to read it but also wanting to ignore it completely. It was a shock that he had gotten a letter, he had only just sent his letter when he went to see Ryan, so it wasn’t like he could have replied already. 

_ To Shane,  _

_ Is it true you have an interview today to talk about me? I think it’s strange that everyone’s so obsessed with me, do you?? Is the interview with Ryan Begera? I know that he has a column about me.  _

_ R.B _

Shane placed the letter done on his desk and sighed again. This man was testing his patience if he was being honest. He pulled out his own paper and pen, ready to reply before he stopped. If they were smart about this they would make sure that someone followed this letter, instead of just watching the letterbox that it should be delivered to. Shane got up and went into TJ’s office, proposing his plan. TJ, luckily, agreed and Shane went back to his desk to write the letter. 

_ Dear R.B, _

_ Why wouldn’t people be scared of you? You’ve killed quite a few people. And, yes, it was with Begera. You should be able to see the column in the next few days. Hope to see you soon.  _

_ Shane. _

~~

**_The Golden Killer of LA - Ryan Bergara_ **

_ The Golden Killer has been tormenting the city of LA for nearly three months now. People across the entire country have been hungry for news of the man that has killed at least fifteen people. Yes, that’s right. Another killing has been reported. Two nights ago, just after sunset, Andrew Red was killed outside his apartment in downtown LA. New lead case detective, Shane Madej, of the Golden Killer case confirmed today that the murder had been linked to the serial killer. Madej was quoted saying “We wanted to make sure that we knew the origin of the crime so that we did not needlessly worry people. But yes, we can confirm that it was him [The Golden Killer] two nights ago”. Many people have rumoured that this killing was the work of the Golden Killer but the police had yet to confirm or deny. Now that it has been confirmed who knows how the people will react. This killer has caused mayhem across the city, becoming one of the most famous criminals of this age.  _

_ As well as confirming Red’s death the police have confirmed that they are doing everything they can to find the killer. The Golden Killer has killed fifteen people now, which means there is more evidence than ever. We can all hope that they find something that they can use to find the man, such as fingerprints or a witness who saw the face of the man. Madej said “we’re doing absolutely everything we can. There are different avenues of investigation that we’re doing right now”. The police have repeatedly said that they are dedicated to finding this killer before he can do any more damage to the city. The killer is smart, as we are all aware, and is good at covering his tracks, which makes it even harder for the police to try and find him.  _

_ One of the most important parts of the investigation is the suspects. When asked, Madej confirmed that they have suspects and are investigating them all now. Madej said that: “We have a handful of suspects that we’re watching” when asked how close they were to catching the killer. If any of these men are the correct suspect and are being watched and investigated then this case could be closed by the end of the month.  _

_ Madej was also quoted saying that “the entire police force is working towards catching this guy.” Let’s hope that’s they don’t take much longer.  _


	4. Chapter 4

Shane was sitting at his desk, trying to concentrate as TJ brought a woman in handcuffs into the room. She was yelling, so TJ was yelling back. A witness, Tim, had come forward late the night before with some information he thought might be relevant. So, Shane now had the pleasure of figuring out if it was at all helpful. Tim had said that it was dark and that he was on some heavy pain meds when it happened, which made the entire testimony awkward. But they were desperate for anything at the moment. And while some of it made absolutely no sense, some of it could be considered helpful. Shane was, at least a little, hopeful. 

The testimony was long. Apparently, Tim had was walking up to the apartment building just it happened. He ducked into an alleyway and watched the killer. And, apparently, he was a super citizen, had followed the killer to a busier street, where he lost him. But, the street in question was full of apartments and the bar that Shane had been at the same night. There were three options that Shane could think of. One, he knew he was being followed and had lead Tim away from his real house. Two, he lived around that area but continued on after Tim had lost him. And three, he lived on that street. 

“Shane Madej!” Was shouted across the room, Shane snapped his head up to find out where it was coming from. The perp that TJ had brought in was staring at him, an odd grin on her face. “You’re looking for the Golden Killer, right?” 

“I am,” Shane said, standing. He made his way to the holding cell where the perp was leaning on the bars. “Do you know something that could help?” Shane asked, “I’m sure we get you some deal.”

The perp shrugged, “what are you looking for? What do you want to hear?”

“Who he is, where he lives. Hell, a good description would be great.” 

“So anything then.”

“Guess so.”

She laughed a little, “you’re desperate.” 

“No.”

“And I’m not a criminal. We could stand here and play games all day, couldn’t we? But I don’t have all day. You let me out of here before three and I’ll give you what I know.”

Shane considered it for a moment. He didn’t know what she was in for but he seriously doubted it was as bad as the perp he was after. It seemed like the best course of action to Shane. Letting a petty criminal go to get a serial killer. He needed to ask TJ first, both as captain and arresting officer he had a say. He nodded to the lady and went to his captain’s office to explain what was happening. 

TJ was looking at Shane with raised eyebrows. “You want to cut a deal with her?”

“Yes.”

“And she said she’d do it?” 

“If we get her out of here before three.”

“Okay, you can let her go without charge if she tells us everything she knows. If we find out she’s withholding anything we charge her fully. Got it?”

With a nod, Shane left the room. She was smiling at him when he walked over to her, her hands resting in between the bars of the cell. “I leave when I tell you what I know?” She asked, a sly grin on her face as if she had been expecting this. Shane nodded. “Great. I don’t know him personally, so you know, but I’ve run into him a few times here and there. He goes to Rita’s all the time, friendly with her now. He’s a short dude, wears this black pea coat pretty often, not the kind of person who frequents Rita’s.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s got money. At least a little anyway. Wears fancy and clean clothes, took a taxi this one time. I’m pretty sure he has an apartment on Rita’s street, which is expensive. He pays in full. Stuff like that. So yeah, he’s got more money than the rest of us. I think he writes, always has a notebook on him. Maybe a journalist or something, I heard him talking about a due date for what he was writing a few months ago. Must be a popular writer, he doesn’t have a set schedule from what I can tell.” 

“Do you have a name?”

“I’ve heard people call him Ry before. A nickname. Don’t know his full name, people don’t share that kind of thing in my sort of circles. Don’t have anything else for you, if I did I would tell you.” 

Shane sighed as he opened the door. “If he finds out you know something you -”

“This isn’t my first rodeo,” she interrupted with a small smile. “See you later detective Madej,” she walked away, waving at TJ, who was coming towards Shane, as she passed. Shane watched as she collected her bag before disappearing out the door. 

TJ stopped in front of Shane. “She give you anything?”

“A fair bit. She thinks he’s a writer, maybe a reporter or something. He’s got money apparently. Oh, and she reckons his nickname is Ry.” 

“It’s more than we had this morning.” 

“We had nothing this morning.”

Both of them chuckled at that, a sad little thing. “Get back to work then,” TJ said as they both started walking towards the foyer. “You’ve got leads to work now, I’m sure.” 

“I might head over to Rita’s again. Who knows, maybe I’ll get lucky and Ry will be there when I arrive,” Shane said as he pulled on his coat. 

 

“When do you ever get lucky?” 

“Today.”

~~

Rita’s was surprisingly crowded for a Wednesday morning. But then again, everyone in the bar was a criminal in some way. And most criminals don’t have 9-5’s. Shane got his standard water before making his way to one of his contacts who was playing darts in one of the corners. As he walked over he literally bumped into someone. Their drinks spilt over each other and Shane had to steady the shorter guy so he didn’t fall over. 

“Sorry,” the man said. Shane tilted his head, he recognised that voice. 

“Bergara?” Shane asked, actually looking down. 

He was right, Ryan Bergara was staring back up at him. “Detective Madej, what are you doing here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Working. Gathering info.”

“Same.”

Ryan laughed a little. “On The Golden Killer? Because so am I, the readers are getting bored of police statements.” 

“They would rather have the statement of a criminal?” 

“Undoubtedly. It’s more exciting,” Ryan replied in all seriousness. 

“Not to mention, most likely a lie.”

“That’s what makes it exciting.” 

Shane chuckled at the statement. “Okay, I can understand that. Here, let me buy you a drink since I spilt yours,” he said as he gestured to Ryan’s still wet pea coat. 

“You sure? I don’t think you can.”

“Why?” Shane asked, looking at him with raised eyebrows. Ryan held up his basically cup to Shane’s face, the scent of alcohol clearly coming off it anyway. “Oh,” Shane nodded. “If you don’t tell my boss I won’t tell anyone.”

“You’re a criminal,” Ryan laughed as they made their way over to the bar. A man that was sitting there saw them, his eyes widened and he moved away. Both boys assumed he was afraid of themselves, and both were right. “But then again,” Ryan shrugged, “everyone in here is.”

Rita, from the other end of the bar where she was serving others, motioned for them to wait for a moment. “Are you?” Shane asked. “A criminal, I mean.”

“Am I?” Ryan echoed back, tipping his glass towards Shane. “You’re the cop.”

Shane was about to answer when Rita appeared before them. “What did you two do?” She asked, looking their damp clothing up and down. “Miss your mouths?”

“We bumped into each other, literally,” Ryan answered. “Can we just get the same again?”

“No, actually, I’ll take what he’s having,” Shane said.

“Two bourbon and cokes coming up. And here I was thinking that you were a square, Mr Madej,” Rita smiled at them before heading off.

Ryan looked up at him, “you don’t drink?”

“Not often, I am a police officer.”

“You don’t seem like someone to actually follow the rules.” 

“I don’t?”

“Nope.” 

Shane laughed again, he seemed to do that a lot around Ryan, as Rita handed them their replacement drinks. “So, what are you here for?” Shane asked taking a sip, wincing at the slight burn. He hadn’t drunk in a fair while, so it was always hard to drink. “You said you were here for work, right?” 

“Yeah, Golden Killer. I hate that name, think it’s tacky,” Ryan said, his smile turning sly, letters he had written fresh in his mind. “But, anyway, these people know more than they like to let on. I try to get as much as I can.” 

“Bullshit,” a man laughed loudly as he walked past. “You’re here for the booze!” 

“That too.”

“Well, maybe you can tell me what you know. ‘Cause I’m here for the same reason.”

Ryan knocked back the rest of his drink, motioned for another one and then shrugged. “What do you want to know? Not much chatter today really, but apparently he’s in the area. Howard said he saw him,” Ryan said flicking his hand in the direction of two men chatting in the corner of the bar. “A few blocks from here, uptown. Other than that it’s the usual. He’s probably scouting his next victim now, if pattern serves, and will hit sometime next week, maybe this weekend. The usual stuff,” Ryan shrugged. Shane went to reply when Ryan cut back in. “-Oh! He’s meeting someone here, tomorrow.”

“Really?” Shane asked, his eyes widening as Ryan nodded once. Ryan watched as Shane’s mouth dropped open with a slight smile on his own face. If he knew where RB was then he could stake it out, wait for him. Sure, he wouldn’t know who it was but he believed that he could figure it out himself when needed. It might not work but it was better than nothing, it was something that he could use. “Any idea of when?” 

“Probably during the day, I’ve never seen him here at night. But no, I don’t actually know.”

Rita appeared before them again, placing two drinks down. “Are you two talking about the Golden Killer?”

 

“It’s my job,” both of them said at the same time.

“No arresting anyone in my bar, and no getting your published sources from here,” Rita said, pointing at the man in question with a glare that could melt steel. “Understand? I’m not getting this place shut down because of your quest for justice or truth or whatever. You won’t like what happens if I lose my bar.”

Both of them nodded and said “promise.”

“Okay,” she nodded at them before sauntering away. Grabbing glasses and bottles as she went down the bar.

“Is it bad that she kind of scares me?” Shane asked.

“I think you wouldn’t be human if she didn’t,” Ryan replied before taking a drink. “So, Mr Madej, what’s your story?”

Shane pursed his lips, “what do you mean?”

“Well, where’re you from? What do you like doing? That kind of thing.” 

“From Chicago, moved out here a few years. You?”

“Born and raised Southern California. Been here for a long time. So, what do you like doing then?” 

Taking a sip, Shane shrugged. “I kind of only work. I like reading about history.”

“Yeah, work takes up most of my time. But I love writing so it’s not like I’m complaining.”

A loud bang interrupted what Shane was about to say, both boys turned in their chairs to see another man had entered the bar. The door had smashed against the wall when he had flung it open. He was glaring at all the other occupants, his glare going across the room. Ryan stood up, his own glare on his face. The two stared at each other for a tense moment, the entire room watching with bated breath. Shane stood up as well, his hand inching towards the gun on his hip slowly. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he didn’t like it very much. 

“Ry,” the man said. “You’re fucking dead.”

Instead of answering, Ryan grabbed Shane’s hand and started moving through the bar, towards the door. Shane didn’t like the idea of going closer to the man that was threatening Ryan but he also, in the short time he had know Ryan, had come to trust him. The man surprisingly moved out of the way when they walked past, but his stare never left them. And for a brief moment, Shane wondered what he had gotten into with Ryan.


	5. Chapter 5

Did Ryan feel bad for lying to Shane? Yes. Which was strange, seeing as Ryan lied to everyone all the time. He’d been doing this since he was a child, lying to everyone around him. Making up stories that suited him and only him. However, right now, he was feeling had about. For the first time in, well, forever really. But, did that feeling make Ryan stop lying to Shane? No. And it never would.

“So what was that?” Shane asked as they walked down the alleyway. 

“Uh, he doesn't really like me.”

“Really? I never would have guessed."

Ryan laughed at that, stopping at the entrance to the street. A lady pushing a stroller almost crashing into him. She looked at Ryan, as if to yell at him, but stopped short when she recognized who he actually was. Shane watched the entire interaction happen with narrowed eyes. Ryan didn’t even seem to notice it had happened. “I,” Ryan said after clearing his throat, “I wrote an article on the Golden Killer. It was a few weeks ago. I suggested he was a suspect. He didn’t like it very much.”

“He’s angry because you said he was the killer?”   


“Yeah.”

“Why him?”

“He was seen around one of the crime scenes and is known for violence. I just, assumed that it was him, I guess. Was wrong though. Oh, and I never said it was him one hundred percent, I had a list and he was one it. That’s all. And I did apologize, he just didn’t accept it.” 

The two of them started walking down the road as Ryan spoke. When they passed a beggar Ryan and Shane both passed him some coins. “So he wants you dead because you wrote a list that he was on?” Shane summarized as they walked.

“Yeah. Plus I got him fired.”

“Ryan! I feel like that’s the real reason.”

“Wasn’t my fault.”

Shane looked down at his counterpart, confusion written across his face. “You just said-”

“Well, see. He was being a creep at work, not okay. So I told his boss what was happening and he got fired. Wasn’t my fault, if he wasn’t a creep he’d still have a job,” Ryan explained before going on to mutter, “it was the better option anyway.”

“Okay. That makes more sense, I guess,” Shane said. Just ahead of them was the police station, looming over the street. Someone was being dragged up the stairs in handcuffs. Shane sighed at the sight, “work sweet work.”

“Well, good luck tomorrow. Hope you catch him,” Ryan said as they approached the police building. “I’ll have to interview you once you get him.”

“Seems fair.”

Ryan nodded, “don’t let anyone else interview you before me. I want to be the one to break the case.”

“I’ll tell you straight away.”

“Send me a letter,” Ryan replied as he started walking away. Shane tilted his head and opened his mouth to reply. Guessing what was about to be asked Ryan called back; “you know my address, don’t worry!” 

~~

Rita wasn’t too happy when Shane arrived early the next morning, TJ and three undercover uniformed officers in tow. As soon as she saw them she sighed, looking defeated. “I guess I don’t have a choice?” She asked when they had walked in the door. There were no other customers inside, but still, there was the dense smoke haze that always seemed to settle over the dark bar. 

“You have a choice, but if you chose wrong we arrest you,” one of the uniformed officers replied. Shane rolled his eyes at the harsh tone, sending a look of Sorry to Rita. 

“We’ll arrest him in the street,” he promised. “Not in here.” The five of them made their way to different areas. TJ and one cop went to one corner, the other two cops sat beside the door. Shane slunk down at one of the ratty bar stools. From where he was sitting he could see both groups of cops in the corner of his eyes. Rita handed him a small glass of something clear that could definitely pass as water. Or, it could pass enough that Shane would be drinking it right now. He drank it all in one go, passing the glass back to Rita when he was done for more.

He was exhausted. All night, he had been up and researching. Anything that could help today was read at least a dozen times. Shane felt like he was going crazy with all the connecting he had to do. All the reading he had to do. All the work that was put into this case. It was more than he had done for any other case, in his entire life. Which in itself was crazy, Shane was known for his dedicated work ethic. And yet here he was. Struggling to figure out which criminal was the criminal he needed. 

“Did you talk to Ryan? After you left last night, I mean,” Rita asked, sliding another drink to Shane.

“A little,” Shane shrugged. “He made me promise to let him break the story.”

“He better not name drop me.”

“He won’t he likes you too much.”

She smiled at him, a sly thing that was full of thought. “He likes you too. More than me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Oh, nothing. He was in here before you came, right?” She said, her voice turning to a hushed whisper. Shane nodded at the rhetorical question. “He was in here gushing,” her voice tuned deep as she imitated Ryan. “Shane’s such a good detective, Shane’s so good looking, Shane’s someone I could see myself with, Shane’s so fun, so easy to talk to. He wouldn’t shut up about you.”

“Really?”   


A nod.

“I don’t know how to respond.”

“Don’t start gushing to me,” she muttered. “I got enough out of him.” 

Shane took another sip, covering the smile that was appearing on his face. The idea that Ryan, someone he generally liked after such a short time, liked him, wasn’t a horrible thought. And, to be honest, everything that Ryan had said about Shane could be said about Ryan by Shane. Shane let his smile show, “no promises there.” 

“Star-crossed lovers,” Rita muttered. Shane was about to ask her to repeat herself, seeing as hadn’t heard her right, when the door opened. Shane winced when he saw the reactions of the other cops; turning to look straight away. Had they never been undercover before? They all looked but Shane hesitated, seeing as it was strange to look at the door whenever someone walked in. “Look,” Rita said softly. “I know you’re going to want my help today, but I’m not going to help you. Try and make me and I’ll shoot you.”

“Don’t say that to the others.”

“I’m just telling you the truth. I’m not giving you any hints on R- the Golden Killer.”

“You know his name,” Shane said. He was hardly surprised that she did. 

The new arrival to the bar, a man by the name of John, sat down a few stools from Shane and motioned for a drink before collapsing his head into his folded arms. Rita nodded at him even though he couldn’t see her before turning back to Shane. “I do, and so do you. That’s all I’m saying. I happen to like the guy, and I don’t want to see him in chains.”

“Noted.”

~~

A few hours later and the bar was on its way to be full. TJ and the cops had moved around a bit, Shane guessed they were trying not to seem too odd. Shane, on the other hand, had been to this bar before and knew what was what. And staying in your seat for four and a half hours was not unusual. Not at all. Hell, John was still slumped in his seat, the only way Shane knew he wasn’t dead was because every half an hour he’d motioned for a new drink. It was how Shane was telling the time that had passed. 

It was at one o’clock that afternoon when someone came running in with a newspaper, yelling for everyone to pay attention. “It’s about R-” he started before Rita stopped him by throwing a cube of ice at his head. “Jeez Rita, what the hell?”

“Everyone out. We got cops in the building,” she yelled out instead of answering. Her voice echoed around the entire room. Within a moment everyone, even John, was up and out. TJ and the others were too stunned to actually do anything, and Shane just didn’t care. He wasn’t there for them. Once everyone, bar Rita and the cops, had left Rita handed Shane a letter. 

“It was him,” Shane muttered before he had even opened it. “The whole time it was him,” he sighed out lowly. He wasn’t asking a question but Rita nodded. The envelope felt heavy in his hands. Rita nodded again, and she even looked upset. “Did he get a kick out of screwing with me?”

Rita shrugged, “I think it started like that."

“And then what?”

“He found he actually liked you.”

Shane barked out a harsh laugh. “Not much we can do about that. So what? He’s bailed or something?”

“No idea. I’m sure he explained it in his letter?” 

“A pile of lies.”

“Did he ever lie to you?” Rita asked softly, “because he told me that he never outright lied to you. In his letters or face to face,” Rita said. Thinking back to all their encounters Shane tried to remember a time that he had actually lied to him. Sure he wasn’t exactly truthful about himself, but it wasn’t like Shane asked if he was the killer. Ryan had never said he wasn’t the killer. It was as if he was talking in “-third person,” Rita interrupted suddenly. “That’s what he said.”

Flipping the letter around in his fingers, Shane shrugged. “I guess he didn’t lie.”

“I’m really sorry,” Rita said after a brief moment of tense silence. “If it means anything.”

Another few moments of an uncomfortable silence. Shane continued flipping the letter around in his fingers. He could feel the other cops and Rita staring at him, most likely wanting to know what was in the letter. And yeah, Shane wanted to know as well. Wanted to know what kind of parting words he was being left with. But he also wanted to live in this little bubble that he had created in the last few days. Because he had grown fond of Ryan Bergara. 

He had liked talking to him, liked when he was being interviewed by him. Which wasn’t something Shane particularly liked to be honest. Hell, he even enjoyed trading letters with the Golden Killer, RB, Ryan. Whatever his name was. He had had fun with it. Which in its own way was fucked, seeing as he was a serial killer, but it was the truth. Talking to Ryan, in all the ways, was enjoyable. Was something that Shane had come to like.

And Shane knew that when he opened this letter he wasn’t going to have an address where he could send his response. 

TJ was the one to interrupt Shane’s thoughts. “Let’s go back to the station, we can report him. If anyone sees him they can contact us. He can’t hide from the entire country.”

Shane wasn’t so sure, but he still went with TJ and the others. Back to the station just down the road that was already filled with perps or people chained up in the holding cell. They filled out all the paperwork, Shane was in a sort of daze as they did it. Not really paying attention to anything at all. The papers were filled and the wanted posters were sent to every single precinct in the country. Hopefully, someone would spot him and call the precinct. TJ slapped Shane on the back, told him to take the day, and disappeared. 

Doing as he was told, Shane started walking home. The unopened letter still in hand. It was starting to get crinkled. He picked up the newspaper that had been left by his letterbox and headed to his flat. Shane collapsed onto his sofa with a disheartened sigh. The front page of the newspaper caught his eye. It was The Buzzfeed, something that Shane was subscribed to. 

Across the front page read “RYAN BERGARA REVEALS HIMSELF AS THE GOLDEN KILLER IN TELL ALL ARTICLE”. Shane sighed again. The rest of the page was the article Ryan had written, confirming that it was him all along. Then another article issuing an apology from the newspaper. Shane wasn’t surprised that he had a contingency plan, nor was he surprised that Ryan had realised that he was the killer, Shane doubted that Ryan could surprise him now. 

Finally, after nearly two hours, Shane opened the letter. 

_ Shane,  _

_ I’d like to start this letter by saying sorry. Not for killing, not for lying (never to you, just so you know), not for being a criminal. I wouldn’t change that. No, I’m sorry for becoming your friend over these few days. Which seems strange, because we just meet. And maybe you don’t consider me a friend (or ‘didn’t’ seeing as I doubt you like very much now). But I do. Did? No, it’s do. Maybe even mor- I’m sorry for becoming your friend because now I have to leave, and even thinking about leaving you hurts. I’ve never had this before.  _

_ Anyway. I need to leave town, I’ve needed to leave since you become the primary on my case. You’re smart and good at what you do and I don’t want to go to jail. So I’m taking the coward’s way out and running. I can’t stop what I’m doing right now, and the people don’t want me to. I’m not going to tell you where I’m going but you can know that it’s not going to be cold. I hate the cold.  _

_ This letter is getting off track. I’m leaving this with Rita to give to you tomorrow. Sorry for leading you on about the meeting. I was supposed to be meeting someone but he was killed a few days ago (not by me) so it was cancelled. I needed you out of the way for the day so that I could leave peacefully. I told Rita to place your drinks on my tab, she laughed but I’m sure she’ll oblige.  _

_ Again, I’m sorry. Maybe in a different life, we were destined to be best friends. But this time around I have to go. _

_ I wish I didn’t have to leave.  _

_ Love, R.B.  _

_ Ryan. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry folks, this is not over!


	6. Chapter 6

It had been three days since Ryan had skipped town and Shane hadn’t slept since. Hell, he’d hardly been home. Worried looks from TJ be damned. There was one thing on his mind - Ryan goddamn Bergara. And there was one thing that he needed to do - find Ryan goddamn Bergara. It had been his life before, this case, but now. Now it was something completely different. This case was his everything.

Ryan goddamn Bergara. 

TJ had allowed him another week. A week to continue working on the case before handing it over to the FBI fully. Shane didn’t want anyone other than himself cuffing Bergara and bringing him to custody. He had been given 7 days and he had used 3 already. And what had he found? Nothing. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He had connected three more murders to Ryan, same MO and same lack of evidence. Others thought the same thing, so it wasn’t like he was just going completely crazy. Which brought his total number of murders up to eighteen. And there were most likely more but they hadn’t found anything yet. 

“Madej, go home,” TJ said as he walked over. 

“I think I’ve got something,” Shane replied, ignoring what his C.O was saying and handing him an evidence packet. “In his apartment, there was a receipt for a train ticket to New York.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” TJ said looking it over. “This was brought a year and a half ago. Shane, you’re tired. Go home.” 

Shane sighed, TJ was right but he didn’t want to admit it. The ticket might not have even been for him. “Okay, it’s useless. But there has to be something here.”

“Yeah, maybe, but you’re still sleep deprived.”

“So?”

“Go home, Shane.” 

Folding the case file closed Shane sighed. “Alright, I’ll go. But tomorrow I want to go back to Bergara’s office. See if there’s anything there that I missed last time. Maybe I’ll interview the other Buzzfeed writers while I’m there.”

“Shane-”

“And then I’ll go to the train station, see if anyone saw him buying a ticket. If he’s gotten one before he might do it again. How could I not see that before?” 

“Shane-”

“It’s so clear. The fastest way to get across country is the train. Why would he do anything different? Doesn’t make any sense. Maybe I’ll see if we can put up the wanted posters in train stations around the country. Major and minor ones.”  

“Shane-”

Standing, Shane nodded to himself. “Oh, and I forgot to tell you. But this morning, I asked some of the more popular newspapers to see if they would run an article on Bergara, photo and all. That way, someone might see him and call us.” 

“Shane!” 

“What?”

“Stop. Go home and sleep. Don’t even think about him for the rest of the night. Or I’m taking you off the case.”

TJ gently took the case file from Shane’s hands, not relenting when Shane started glaring at him. After a moment of staring at each other, Shane sighed, nodding slowly. He grabbed his coat and bag from his desk, glaring again when TJ took some more work from his bag. The two of them made their way over to the front door. Outside rain was falling heavily, a thick mist covered the entire city. People were bustling about, hunkered amongst themselves to try and remain dry. Someone was yelling down the road. A car drove past, hitting a puddle in the road and splashing an entire family just beside the steps of the precinct. Shane couldn’t help but feel that the entire situation was suited to how he was feeling. 

He took his bag from TJ and pushed open the door, cold air rushed in instantly. A piece of paper flew down from the wall, TJ stomping on it to keep it from escaping out of the open door. Shane’s coat fluttered around him and Shane couldn’t be bothered to stop it. Letting it flap in all directions as the wind continued to whistle in. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, “and I’m going to his office in the morning.” 

Nodding, TJ picked the piece of paper up. As he stood up he replied, “if you think it will help the case.”

“I do.”

“Alright,” TJ replied with another nod.

Shane lifted his hand in a goodbye before stepping out. The rain hit him like a thousand sharp, cold needles. A man barged into his side and then proceed to curse Shane out for being in his way. With a weary sigh, Shane changed directions. Heading to Rita’s instead of his house. Sure, he had been told to go home. But damn it, he needed a drink more than he needed sleep. 

Rita’s wasn’t very far from the precinct, which meant Shane only got lightly soaked on his way there. Not much happened on his walk over there, everyone was too preoccupied with themselves to care about the others on the street. Shane didn’t blame them, someone could be robbed in front of him and he doubted he’d even notice. That’s how crazy his brain was as he walked. The entire time, he thought of Ryan. Ways to find Ryan, ways to capture Ryan, ways to do his damn job. And, no, his thoughts did not stray to anything that wasn’t work related. That was for sure. 

And even if they did, it wasn’t like Shane entertained those thoughts for very long. 

As Shane walked into the bar, someone was walking out. Shane didn’t look to see who it was, he didn’t care. But as soon as the man saw Shane, he jumped back. Letting Shane walk in before he left. Shane did notice that, smirking lightly to himself. Rita saw him walking towards the bar, nodding when they made eye contact and pulling down a glass. Shane collapsed on a bar stool, stealing his mind against memories of three days prior. A glass with something amber was placed in front of him. He drank it all in one go, coughing as soon as he was done and wincing as he placed it back on the bar. 

“It took you a while to come back,” Rita observed as she poured another glass. Shane eagerly awaited it, even if it felt like drinking liquid fire. It would get him drunk, and being drunk meant not being sad. “I was expecting you here yesterday,” Rita continued as Shane started drinking. 

“I was working.”

“You’re looking for him?”

Shane shrugged, swirling the drink around in the glass. “It’s my job. Find and bring in criminals.”

“And my job is hotel cleaner if you’re going off my tax records.” 

“What’s that supposed mean?” Shane asked, “that you’re a criminal? ‘Cause I knew that.” 

Rita pointed at Shane’s glass, “so are you. But no, what I meant was, just because your job is bringing in criminals doesn’t mean that’s why you’re trying to find Ryan.”

“That makes no sense.” 

“Boys,” Rita sighed, shaking her head. “Figure it out and I’ll give you a hint to where he is.”

“What?”

She just smiled at him before moving down the bar. Shane frowned into his glass, a pout on his lips. The entire conversation echoing in his mind and not making sense to him. At least, he liked to think it didn’t make sense. Because in reality, he actually did know what Rita meant. He understood what she was getting at with the conversation. She thought that he liked Ryan. Which, okay, he liked Ryan before he knew that he was a serial killer. Yeah, he definitely did. He thought Ryan was funny and someone he could see himself becoming friends with over time. But then he had to go and be a criminal and Shane couldn’t justify becoming best friends with a serial killer - no matter how funny or cute. 

But, he didn’t like like him. Shane sighed, feeling like a 10-year-old girl. But it was still the truth. Sure, he found him attractive. Ryan was definitely cute and Shane couldn’t lie and say he didn’t find height difference a bit of a turn on. And when Ryan laughed his face didn’t entirely light up, causing Shane’s heart to miss a few beats. And when Shane had re-read the letters he had sent yesterday, he hadn’t felt a sense of longing fall over him. A longing for a life he wouldn’t have. No. None of that was true. Rita was just a crazy lady who run a bar for criminals. Shane’s frown deepened and he knocked back the rest of his drink.

From the other end of the bar, Rita winked at him. 

~~

The next morning Shane walked into the precinct after an uneventful trip to Buzzfeed. No one knew anything helpful, nothing that Shane didn’t know already. He was tired and annoyed at everything - Rita specifically. She had kept him up all night, thoughts ricocheting around his mind. Her little wink had been on his mind ever since he left the bar. And not just because it was annoying that she was speculating, but because he was afraid that she was actually right. 

He had thought about it all night. Coming to the conclusion that yes, - if Ryan wasn’t a criminal and serial killer - he would like to date him. But, as it stood, Ryan was a criminal and killer so that was off the table. Hell, it was out of the room. At least, that’s what he told himself as he walked to his precinct after seeing Ryan’s desk at Buzzfeed for the third time in four days. He was sure that it wasn’t even in the house at this point. He was sure, well he tried to be sure of that. 

Shane sat down at his desk, pulling out his notes with a disheartened sigh. There was nothing new to go on and he was four days down. If he didn’t get something new soon it would be all over. As Shane went over a police statement for the tenth time TJ walked past his desk, he was talking to another officer but dropped a letter beside Shane’s hand. Pausing in the middle of his conversation to say: “that was dropped off early this morning.”

“Thanks,” Shane nodded as TJ walked towards his office. For a brief moment, Shane felt that sense of longing flare deep in his chest. That same feeling he felt when he was reading Ryan’s old letters. It was another letter but it wasn't from Ryan seeing as Shane didn’t recognize the handwriting. That longing feeling didn’t go away though, much Shane’s annoyance (and confusion if he was being honest). He opened it anyway, preparing himself for something unhelpful. 

_ To Shane,   
_ _ I promised a hint if you figure it out. From the pout you had last night, you figured it out. But you ran before I could talk to you. Just so we’re clear, I don’t want you to bring Ryan in. You know what I want. So here you go - Ryan’s got a really good friend in Florida who’s also in the crime scene. He is most likely heading there right now so that he can lay low for a while. Probably to wait until his case goes cold. It’s not much but it’s all I know.  
_ __ Your friendly hotel cleaner.

Shane was about to go and message the police in Florida when TJ all but ran over, waving a piece of paper. “We got him.”

“What?” Shane asked standing and grabbing the paper. It was a telegram, sent from a small Dallas train station in Texas. The note explained that they had seen the picture at the police station and recognised him when he came through. They were letting Shane come and get him to bring him back to California for a trail. A picture of Ryan sat at the bottom, he was in handcuffs and pouting - and no, he did not look adorable. “This is amazing!”

“We’re sending you straight away. Go home, grab a few things. You’ll be gone for, probably, three days.”

“I’m going,” Shane replied, already packing his briefcase. 

“And don’t let him get away from you, the slippery bastard.”

“Don’t worry,” Shane said with a laugh. “I won’t let him out of my sight.” 


	7. Chapter 7

As soon as the train pulled to a stop, Shane was off and running. Ryan was being held at the local precinct, which was just down the road from the station. The town in question wasn’t all that big, just one street of shops and a few side streets of houses. It seemed like the type of town that everyone knew everyone. Which may explain all the strange looks Shane received as he raced down the main street. 

Inside the precinct sat two police officers, one man in a cell that definitely wasn’t Ryan Bergara, and stacks of paperwork everywhere. “Shane Madej,” Shane said as he took out his ID. “Here to pick up Bergara for transport back to LA.” 

Both of the police officers stood, one disappeared down a dark corridor and the other approached Shane. They shook hands as he introduced himself, “Sergeant Driscoll. Nice to meet you.”

Shane grunted out a serviceable reply. His attention was fully on the corridor that the other man had gone down. Ryan Bergara was not getting away from him again. If Shane had to handcuff himself to the criminal in question then he would. This case had been Shane’s worst nightmare for some time. He was known for solving anything but on his desk, and to suddenly not be able to was horrible. But now he had cracked it. He had found the criminal and was about to bring him back to LA so he could be put where he belonged. Shane’s reputation wouldn’t be tarnished because of this. He wouldn’t let it. 

“We found him at the train station. I was picking up my son and daughter in law, they had just gone into Houston you see, for a friend’s wedding. Lovely service apparently. Anyway, I recognised him from the fax I was sent a few days ago, the picture is very well done by the way. Did you do it? Of course, you didn’t, never mind. I grabbed him and hauled him back here. My son was not happy that I bailed on them but I figured this was more important than greeting them. My wife didn’t agree with that but she cheated on me a few weeks so she’s not allowed to be annoyed at me anymore, tit for tat am I right?”

He paused his speal to take a breath and Shane had to steady himself against a wall. The man was insane and Shane couldn’t do anything but stand here. “Anyway, I telegrammed your boss, TJ was it? Well, I telegrammed him straight away. I figured he’d send you or someone to come a get him quickly. Which is good because we’ve only got one cell and one interrogation room. We had him in the cell at first but then we had a domestic dispute. Harry and Marge, lovely couple but they’re both angry people, you know. So we had Harry in here and he and Ryan started fighting. We moved him to the interrogation room. He was chained down so we were confident he wouldn’t escape.”

Another breath. Shane was astounded anyone could talk this much about, really, not that much. “He kept asking after you. When you’d arrive, who you’d be with. All that. Figured he was nervous that you were coming to get him. You were the manager on the case, weren’t you? No, I know that you were. It was on Ryan’s arrest warrant. Message you or TJ, it was TJ wasn’t it? You must be happy that he’s been found. I know that I-” 

“Madej!” Ryan cheered when he walked in, interrupting the sergeant. His hands were cuffed behind him and his ankles were chained together so he was shuffling. The officer pushed his back causing Ryan to stumble, which for reasons beyond Shane, made him angry. “I’m so happy that you’re here,” Ryan said once they had approached. Shane felt warm with Ryan standing so close to him again. He put it down to the fact he was closing a case. 

“I’m sure you are,” Shane replied. “Ready to go back to LA?”

“But I’m having such a fun time here.”

The police officer pushed Ryan again, causing him to surge forward. Luckily he caught himself before he could fall. Just as he was standing up Shane gripped his arm and pulled Ryan to stand beside him. “Thank you,” Shane said after a brief moment of tense silence where everyone was glaring at everyone. “For your accommodation and for finding him.” 

“You’re welcome. I’m sure we’ll see you around.”

“Pardon?” Shane asked seeing he was hardly planning on staying.

Sergeant Driscoll laughed, “the train’s already left. You have to wait until tomorrow, around noon, to get out. It’s a real nuisance for the people here but we deal with it. We’re used to it, you know. People that come out for the day, they’re never used to it. Think they’ll be able to get off, have lunch and then get back on a train and head on out. Nope, not here.”

“Oh,” Shane said, trying not to sigh. Ryan had no such qualms, laughing loudly at the situation. “Well, then I’m sure we’ll bump into each other.”

“There’s a motel just opposite the station,” the other officer said. “You can stay there for the night.”

“Thanks,” Shane said as Sergeant Driscoll handed him a manila folder with some papers hastily stuffed in. Shane gripped that in one hand and Ryan’s arm in the other. He nodded at the police officers, Ryan waved as best he could, and they were out. The street was covered in a dark cloud, storms crackling in the distance. A lady walked past them with her child, who she pulled away from them. They took a step and Shane was instantly annoyed. He was tall, no doubt, which meant he had long legs, which meant he took long strides. Ryan, on the other hand, was short. Which meant he took short sides. To add to that, at that moment, he had chains on his ankles. Shane looked from Ryan’s ankles to the motel a few hundred meters away with a sigh.

It was a hundred per cent against protocol. But, the idea of walking that slowly drove Shane insane. So, he lent down and under did one of the cuffs on Ryan’s ankle. He left the other one on, just so that it would take less time to recuff him when they got to the motel. The two of them set off again, this time, their strides longer. Shane didn’t think he’d get in trouble for the breach in protocol. There wasn’t anyone in the town that knew him, and the police officers in this town seemed like the kind who listened to the rules as much as the people in their cell. 

They got maybe fifty meters before Ryan started speaking. Shane tried to ignore him at first, but it was hard. Ryan’s voice was - for lack of a better word - nice. Shane liked it. “So, you figured it out, congrats. And well done on finding me so fast. I was heading to Canada. If they hadn’t have grabbed me I’d be halfway to freedom right now. No worries though, I’m sure I’ll get there,” he smiled up at Shane, who glared back but even he could tell it was lacking heat. Ryan laughed. “Aren’t you going to ask me why?”

“Why what?”

“Why I did it, why I wrote letters, why I got involved, why I killed like 40 people. Any of the above?” 

Shane stopped dead in his tracks, pulling Ryan to a stop as well. “40 people?”

“No,” Ryan said with another laugh. “21.”

“That’s more than what we thought,” Shane admitted. He had a feeling Ryan already knew that though. “We thought it was around 18.” 

Ryan shrugged, “not everyone gets noticed I guess.” 

“You hid the bodies.”

A lady walking past them glared at Ryan and Shane. Ryan rolled his eyes at her but Shane felt off. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was making it better, he was the good guy. Ryan laughed again, and Shane was starting to really like that sound. “She doesn’t like that we’re discussing dead bodies in the middle of town. Which, is fair. This isn’t LA.”

“No, it isn’t,” Shane agreed looking around. It looked like a set from an old Western story if he was being honest. “I guess crime isn’t a big deal around here.”

“They have two police officers, and only one is full time,” Ryan supplied. “How many does LA have?” 

“More than two,” Shane said, another lady glared at them, clutching at her husband's arm. “And I think the people are friendly back home. I don’t get glared at in the street, even if I’m with a criminal.”

Again, Ryan shrugged. “People in LA mind their business.” They walked past a bar and Ryan gasped, staring at it. Shane looked up at the sign, confusion written across his face. It looked like any old-timey bar that was probably too sticky and only served two drinks. But Ryan looked like he had fallen in love, but also like he was about to faint in fear. “This is Old Mack’s bar!”

“Yes,” Shane said pointing to the sign. “I can read.”

“No,” Ryan said with wide eyes. Shane didn’t know if it was excitement of terror. Both? “This place is legendary.”

“What do you mean?”

“Full of ghosts!”

Shane took a moment to process that, sighed, shook his head and then said: “there’s no such thing as ghosts.” 

“Prove it.”

“You prove that they do exist.” 

“Fine, let’s go in.”

“Nope,” Shane said. He began walking again, gripping Ryan’s forearm so he had no choice but to follow. They were close to the motel now and Shane was blocking out Ryan’s whining about ghosts in favour of trying to figure out what he was going to say to the receptionist. He doubted they’d be happy to have a serial killer in one of their rooms. He figured that maybe he could hide the fact that Ryan was in chains, but that seemed pretty difficult. 

The motel in question was just like the rest of the town - old, weathered and wooden. There was a white wrought iron table and chairs set outside that was rusted and grey, and a few planter boxes with dead flowers and large weeds. The windows were grimmy and the front door had one of the lower panels kicked in. It was, undoubtedly, not the kind of place Shane wanted to stay at. Inside was no better. The entire place seemed dark, smelt of damp and someone was screaming upstairs. There was a sofa pushed against one wall, a sofa that looked so dirty Shane was worried he’d get a disease just from sitting on it. On the other side was a desk, covered in flyers that looked like they hadn’t been touched in a century and a lady that looked like she was even older than the flyers. 

She regarded them sourly, going from Ryan’s chained ankle to Shane’s somewhat guilty expression. He didn’t really care what this lady thought but he needed a place to stay so he needed to play the part. After a moment of staring she sighed and shook her head. “Do you want a room?” She asked, her voice was so deep and scratchy it was like she ate cigarettes in her spare time.

Shane nodded, “just for the night.”

“Obviously.” 

Before Shane could think about that answer she was handing them a key and was asking for money. Shane handed it over - LA precinct money and not his own - and then she motioned to the hallway before getting back to her book. “Was it just me, or was she rude?” Shane asked as they walked to their room. They were on the ground floor, on the other side of the building of the screaming couple which Shane was happy about. 

“She thought this-” Ryan rattled his handcuffs “-was some kind of kinky thing.” Shane looked absolutely weirded out at the thought, which Ryan thought was funny. In reality, the thought had already entered Shane’s mind. As soon as he had walked out Shane couldn’t help but think that Ryan looked good. Really good. He pretended it was that he was happy he had been caught and not that his jacket really flattered him. They arrived at their door and Shane pushed it open, stepped through and pulled to a stop. Ryan peered around Shane and proceed to crack up laughing. 

There was only one bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sergeant Driscoll is my favourite character in this.


	8. Chapter 8

“I really want to see the ghost bar,” Ryan said, for what seemed like the hundredth time. He tugged on his handcuffs, pouting again. He was currently sitting on the bed, his hands chained behind the bed to the poles on the headboard. Shane was sitting on the armchair, reading a book he had found on their desk. It was the most boring thing he’d ever read - the history of the town - but it was better than Ryan talking about ghosts. “Could you imagine if you saw a g-”

“Say ghost and I’m going to go to that bar and leave you here,” Shane threatened. Ryan shut up. Shane relaxed in the peace and quiet. The handcuffs rattled again. Then quiet, then rattle, then quiet, then rattle, then - “Stop moving!”

“My arms are sore!”

“Should have thought about that before you killed people.”

Ryan was, honest to god, pouting at Shane. Shane sighed. It was one part adorable and one part annoying. There was silence for a few more minutes before Ryan started babbling again. “The school is also supposed to be haunted. Back in the day, there was a huge town-wide plague, so they took all the sick people to the school so they’d be contained. Most of them died there.” 

“That’s awful but it doesn’t mean ghosts.”

“I think it does.”

“That’s ridiculous. How can you believe in something you can’t see?” 

With a grin, Ryan shook his head. “I have seen one.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“Have too. I was in a hotel with some friends when I was young. My stuff got all knocked around and pushed off the table and I was poked all night long.”

“You placed your stuff on the edge of the table and your friend did it.”

“No and no.”

Shane huffed, shaking his head. “What then? A dead person. You think a dead person is a more likely suspect than your friend and gravity?” 

“Yes. Because my friend was asleep and the toothpaste wasn’t on the edge-edge. It was just on the bench. You weren’t there, you don’t know.” 

“I think I do.”

“If we went to the ghost bar, then we could see. Oh! You’re a detective. Grab your badge and let’s go to the school.” 

“There’s something seriously wrong with you. I hope you know that.” 

Ryan shrugged. “You’re going to have to feed me at some point, aren’t you? So why not take me to the haunted bar, we can grab dinner and look for ghouls.”

“Shut up, Ryan, or I’m going to gag you.”

“Empty threat,” Ryan muttered in reply. Shane stood, reaching for his bag and Ryan held his hand up, as best he could, in surrender. Shane sat back down. He didn’t have a gag in his briefcase, although he wished he did. He picked the book back up, continuing to read about the building of the town hall in 1879. Then it was about the small flood of 1983, and the big flood of 1890. Then another small flood in 1899. He got up to the building of the police force in 1909 when Ryan started speaking again. “Okay, you’re not into ghosts. Got it. But I bet you’re into true crime. I mean, you’re a detective.” 

Shane tilted his head, listening to Ryan with care and attention instead of disregarding him like before. “I guess.”

“What’s your favourite case?”

“Yours.”

“Really?” Ryan asked, pride clear in his voice. “I’m honoured. Why?”

The thought of lying, of saying he was tricking, came into his head. It went away just as fast, though. Lying to Ryan just didn’t seem right to Shane anymore. It was odd, he had no qualms about lying to prisoners before this. Before Ryan. Yet he couldn’t think of something he wanted to do less at that moment. “You sent letters to me. No criminals had ever done that before. It made my job interesting. Also, you're a tricky bastard, aren’t you? Made it hard for me when it’s not really hard more often than not.”

“Oh, that’s great. I’m glad.”

“You’re glad that you're my favourite mass murder?”

“No. Your favourite crime case, any crime. That’s what I asked.”

Shane rolled his eyes. “Oh, sorry. You’re glad you’re my favourite criminal.”

“Yup.”

“Why?” Shane asked, disbelief in his voice. 

“Because I’m your favourite.”

“Oh. You’re insane.”

Ryan grinned again, shrugged as best as he could. “I guess. If it makes you feel better, you’re my favourite detective. Or police member actually.” 

“Really? But I caught you?”

“Makes it exciting.” 

“It’s not exciting anymore,” Shane replied. “You’ve been caught. We’re going to get on this train and we’re going to go back to California and you’re going to go to jail. Or you’ll get the-” Shane stopped speaking. The idea of Ryan dying heavy on Shane’s mind. All the other criminals he had caught, the idea of them dead wasn’t a big deal for him. It was just something that happened to the bad criminals. They’d be hanged and it’d be over. Shane didn’t have a part in that. But Ryan, he was different. Shane absolutely didn’t want to see him swinging on a gallow. 

Ryan smiled a small smile at Shane, “just released where I’m going?” 

“You’re not worried.” It was a statement. Not a question. It was clear, at least it was to Shane, that Ryan didn’t care. That the idea of dying at never entered his mind. Shane couldn’t believe that. He must have thought about it at one point. Or perhaps he was confident enough to get away with it that he knew he wasn’t going to go to jail. But then he’d be worried now. Because he had been caught. He was in handcuffs and chained to a bed with a detective watching him. Or maybe he thought he could still get away. Shane, for a reason he didn’t understand, didn’t want to burst that innocent bubble he had around him. 

“No. I’m not.”

“Why?”

A shrug.

“You could die.”

“Or I could get away with it.”

“You basically confessed in your letters.” 

Another shrug. “I could claim they were forged. My handwriting in those letters is different than my actual handwriting.” 

“And you just told me your plan.”

“My word against yours.”

“I’m a stand-up detective.”

Ryan grinned, “I’m a loved member of the community, educated and a writer. And you’re a detective whose reputation rests in you solving this case. I don’t worry about dying because I don’t need to. I know how to win.”

“Did you become a writer to use it in court?” Shane hurt, actually hurt at Ryan’s harsh criticisms of him. “Give to charity so you can say that you’re a good guy.”

“No. I love writing and I give because I can, I like to help people.”

“When you’re not killing them.”

“You’ve got me there,” Ryan nodded. “Or have you, because you haven’t proved I’m guilty just yet.” 

Shane laughed a little at that, his mind going away from Ryan’s harsh words. Ryan was actually funny, he had known that for a while, to be honest, but it became clearer every time Ryan spoke. He could make Shane laugh very easily, he could take Shane’s mind off whatever he was thinking about and just make him think about the joke. Something that not many others could do. “Innocent until proven guilty, huh?”

“Exactly.”

Picking up his book, Shane nodded. “Something I swore to uphold.”

“And half the police force don’t,” Ryan added. “I think you’re one of the first good cops that I’ve met. Most others I could give $30 and they’d let me go.”

“You’ve done that, haven’t you?” 

The grin on Ryan’s face was huge. “First kill, was caught almost straight away. Didn’t want to go to jail, obviously, so I paid my way out.” 

“That’s terrible.”

“If I hadn't done, you wouldn’t be sitting here laughing with me.”

“I’m not laughing with you. I’m laughing at you,” Shane replied as seriously as he could. Ryan just laughed. “I’m serious.” 

“You’re not very good at lying.”

Shane put the book back down and stood, ignoring Ryan’s comments. “I’m hungry. Are you?” Ryan nodded. “Alright, what do you want? I’ll go to that restaurant that was beside the hotel. Not the haunted one.”

“So you admit it’s haunted.” 

“No. The only thing that would be haunted, hypothetically, is a mine. Now, what do you want to eat?”

“We’re just breezing past that?”

“Yup.”

“Cool. I’ll have whatever, I’m not fussy.”

Before he left Shane checked the chains. He was secured to the bed and his ankles were chained together as well. Shane doubted he’d get out. Ryan waved at him from his place on the bed as he put on his coat. Shane, without really thinking, waved back before walking out of the room. In the hallway, a man was entering the room at the other end. He turned, glared at Shane, and disappeared into his room. Shane made a face at the closed door when he walked past, trying to ignore the odd grunts coming from another room. For such a small town, this motel was full of weird people. 

The restaurant next to the motel was a homestyle place, probably a family run business that had a few people sitting in it, eating happily. There wasn’t anyone in line, however, so Shane was served pretty quickly. The kid who served him was about seventeen and looked extremely bored and like he didn’t want to be there. “Hi, welcome to Bellas. Today’s special is our chicken soup. What can I get you?” 

Their menu wasn’t exactly full of promising items so he shrugged, “two soups, please. To go.” 

“That’ll be $4 and will be ready in about ten minutes. Take a seat while you wait if you want.” 

Shane paid, thanked him, and went to sit at one of the two people tables. A girl came out of the kitchen, pushed the boy away and lent on the counter, throwing and catching one of the little mints that sat on the bench. “I don’t know you,” she said to Shane. “Are you new or visiting?” 

“Is anyone ever new?” One of the customers called back.

“Shut up, Gene,” she rolled her eyes and turned back to Shane.

“Just passing through. I had to - to pick up a friend.”

“Oh, how sweet. Your partner?”

If you were to ask Shane why he answered the way he did, he wouldn’t be able to give you a response. Perhaps he didn’t want to get into it all, perhaps he felt pressured, perhaps he wanted it to be the truth, perhaps it was hot in the restaurant and he got flustered. He certainly didn’t know at the time. But, he turned to the girl at the counter and said one simple word, “yes.” 

Back in the hotel room, Shane dumped the bags of food on the table and raced into the bathroom. The moment he had seen Ryan, relaxing as best he could, on the bed, he had felt himself heating up. A blush most likely taking over his face. He ran his hands under cold water before splashing it onto his face. It helped for a moment but didn’t actually fix the problem. But, he couldn’t let their soup get cold and Ryan was probably wondering why Shane was taking so long.

When did Shane begin to care about what criminals thought? 

When he meet Ryan Bergara. The answer was obvious. 

He walked back into the room, ignoring the confused stare that he was getting for Ryan and started pulling out containers. They had also been given a few pastries, free of charge because the store was closing and they wanted them sold. Shane got the spare pair of handcuffs he had in his bag and snapped one end to Ryan’s ankle chain and the other end to the poles at the end of the bed. “Just for eating,” he explained as he under did the handcuffs.

Ryan sat up, stretching his wrists and grimacing. Shane had to look away he felt so bad. He berated himself as best he could. It wasn’t his fault that he had to tie Ryan up. It was his job to do so. But it didn’t matter. He still felt awful for doing it. Shane handed Ryan a bowl of soup before he took his own and sat at the desk. 

“Thank you,” Ryan said after a few moments of eating in silence. “For dinner.” 

“It’s fine. And hey, if you’re innocent you can pay me back.” 

“I’ll just buy you another dinner,” Ryan said with a sly grin. Shane choked on his soup and Ryan cracked up with laughter.


	9. Chapter 9

The soup was, at best, alright. Shane ate all of his but that was mostly due to the fact he hadn’t eaten in a long time. Ryan, on the other hand, only ate about a quarter before declaring it ‘the worst soup he’d ever eaten’ and demanded one of the pastries. Shane went to hand it to him but then stopped, “you don’t get to demand things, Ryan.”

“Why not?”

“Because you killed 21 people!”

“Fair,” Ryan replied with a shrug. “If I had done it, which I didn’t. So give me a pastry.”

“No.”

“Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“You’re not innocent!”

“Jokes on you, you haven’t proven that. Give me the apple one.” Shane picked up the apple pastry and took a bite out of it, just to spite him. Ryan shrugged again, “I’ll still eat it.” Shane handed it over to him with a weary look on his face, surely he wouldn’t actually eat the half bitten pastry. But he did, smiling as he went, and Shane sighed. Ryan was a strange man who he couldn’t get his head around. Plus, the pastry wasn’t even that good.

Ryan started playing with his jumper sleeve, pushing it over his fingers and back up his arm. Shane watched, completely memorised at the small and inconsequential movement. Shane traced his eyes up Ryan’s arms (and they were nice arms, Shane couldn’t deny) and to Ryan’s face. Ryan was, luckily, looking down so he couldn’t see the longing look Shane was sending him. 

After a few minutes of silence Ryan looked up, and for the first time, Shane saw fear in his eyes. But, after a moment Shane could see the calm behind the fear. The almost smug expression Ryan was hiding. “Do - do you think I’ll be sentenced to death?”

“Probably. Unless you have a biased jury or you bribe the judge. But I doubt you could.”

“Why?”

“You’d need hundreds, possibly even thousands to bribe a judge.” 

“Well, I’m going to be needing a good lawyer. Any ideas?”

Shane shrugged, “best in town is McClintock.”

Ryan was silent for another minute before the ‘fear’ melted from his expression and he just looked smug. Shane pursed his lips, Ryan clearly had a plan. “So, are we going to the ghost bar?” He asked, doing a 180 on the topic.

“No.”

“Shame. Well then, we should probably go to bed or something,” Ryan looked down at the bed with a sly smirk. “How do you want to do it? I’m thinking heads and tales.”

Eyeing the bed, Shane shook his head slowly with a sigh. Ryan was going to be the death of him, he was sure of it. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

“Bull.”

“Pardon?”

“I saw you staring earlier, you were thinking about it.” 

Ryan was partially correct. Shane had been staring at the bed. And he had been thinking about sleeping. But he had not been thinking of how they could sleep. No, he was thinking about a scenario where he could slip into the bed and cuddle up behind Ryan as the big spoon and fall asleep with him in his arms. Which was not something a police officer should be thinking about his prisoner, a serial killer. Yet, he had been.

“Can I ask you something? Off the record.”

“Sure,” Ryan said, although he was staring at Shane with a confused and suspicious look on his face. “Do police do ‘off the record’?”

“Not really. But I want an honest answer, and I know you can’t give me one.”

Ryan nodded, “alright. Off the record. But if you use what I say then I’m publishing everything you said off the record.”

“Fair,” Shane nodded to the terms before breathing in a deep sigh. “Why’d you do it? Kill those people.”

It took Ryan a while to answer. Shane couldn’t tell if he was formulating an answer or figuring out if Shane was trustworthy. “If I had done it, which I didn’t by the way, there would be a few reasons. At first, it was, what? Social justice? Yeah. The people weren’t nice, known for their nastiness. I, if it was me, wanted them gone. Then I, if it was me obviously, got noticed by some people who wanted some jobs done. Then it became a mix of both.”

“You’re a hit man. For who?”

“No I am not, I’ve never killed a soul. For the mob.” 

“The mob!” Shane exclaimed loudly. 

“No. A few things needed to be done and they asked me. Usually, it was just writing about how their legal lives in my column. I used to write about a lot more than just me.”

“I know, I read it. The true crime column.”

“You read it?” Ryan asked, a fake coo in his voice. “But I also had another one under a pseudonym that I used for that sort of stuff.”

Shane rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I read it before I knew you were a criminal-“ he continued on, ignoring Ryan’s annoyed huff “-and I liked it. But, really, the mob?” 

“No. And not my fault.”

“Not your fault? How is that not your fault, Ryan?” 

“It’s not like I could say no! They approached me and I did it. Really, you should be thanking me - if it was me who did it, and it wasn’t - because I was doing your job. The people that the golden killer killed weren’t nice.”

“Can you please stop that. I know it was you,” Shane said with a tired sigh. “You confessed in your newspaper.”

Ryan frowned for a moment, thinking hard, before laughing loudly. “I did, didn’t I. That’s going to be hard to get out of.”

Another sigh from Shane. Ryan had clearly done it on purpose. He had a plan. It seemed like he always did. Shane had been underestimating Ryan this whole time. Sure, he knew that Ryan was smart. He couldn’t have gotten away with all of this if he wasn’t. But he had never seen the full extent. How Ryan actually planned everything he did, how he knew his next step and - more importantly - seemed to know how everyone else would react. It was actually rather impressive. 

“You should have been a police officer,” Shane said after a while.

“Nah, I hate paperwork. Vigilante justice is what I’m after.” 

“Until you’re caught,” Shane said gesturing to the chains. Surely this hadn’t been a part of his plan, but Shane couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t hundred per cent say that Ryan didn’t want to be in this exact situation. “I don’t think that’s what you wanted.”

“Even if it wasn’t, I can get my way out of it.”

Shane pondered that for a moment. “You wanted to be caught. Didn’t you?”

“If I wanted to be in Canada, I’d be in Canada.” 

“This train station isn’t even en-route to Canada, is it?” Shane asked and Ryan shook his head. “Everything you do, it’s all planned. That’s why you’re so calm.” 

“You’re a good cop, Shane Madej, I’ll give you that. Now, can I ask you a question? And you promise to answer truthfully?”

“Sure, and then we should go to bed,” Shane replied. “It’s late and I’m not missing that train so we’re getting up early.”

Ryan nodded. “Do you think what I was doing was bad?” Shane went to answer instantly, but Ryan stopped him. “No. Answer me truthfully. Was me killing rapists and thieves and other murderers such a bad thing?” 

“No.”

“You’re not just a good cop then. You’re a good guy.”

“For being okay with murder?”

“Only sometimes, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then it’s not as bad.”

Shane didn’t think that was how it worked but didn’t want to get into it. He was tired and didn’t even want to think over the answer he had come up with. How he had answered ‘no’ when he should have had a different point of view. How ‘no’ had just come into his mind. How Ryan probably had something to do with that answer. How Ryan probably had everything to do with that answer. 

“We should go to sleep,” Ryan said after a few minutes of quiet contemplation. He rattled his chains, “am I going to be uncuffed or…” 

“I don’t know. There’s no protocol to follow.” 

“I’d like to be uncuffed.”

“What you want doesn’t factor into protocol.”

“You just said there isn’t any protocol.”

Standing up, Shane sighed again. He looked around the room for some way to fix the situation before coming up with the one he thought was the best. He uncuffed one of Ryan’s ankles and then cuffed him to the footboard, so he could move around but he couldn’t leave the bed. The key went on the other side of the room. Then he took off his wrist restraints, a pleased sigh coming out of Ryan which went straight to Shane’s head. Turning away quickly so that he didn’t show the blush, Shane tried to block out that memory. Ryan didn’t seem to notice. 

Ryan shrugged off his jumper and settled down into the bed, his eyes tracing Shane as he packed up his bag and took off his own coat. The room had been cold but he was suddenly very, very, hot. The coat went over the back of the chair and Shane went to the other side of the bed after he had checked the door was locked. The bed wasn’t tiny, Shane couldn’t stretch out in it but he couldn’t do that in most beds. But, when they lay side by side, they weren’t touching. Shane considered it a win. He also considered it a win that the image of them cuddled up together on the bed was only in his mind for a brief moment. A moment too long? Perhaps. But Shane wasn’t a man who denied himself all pleasure. 

“No funny business,” he muttered when they laying in the dark. He had to say something, he’d go crazy if he didn’t. Ryan’s slow breathing in the dark was too much. 

“What does that mean?” 

“I don’t know. Just, no funny business.”

“Thanks, that really cleared that up.”

“Fuck off. If you’re annoying I’m gagging you on the train.”

“I’m shaking.” 

Shane grunted in annoyance. “I’m serious.”

“Can I ask you another question?” Ryan asked, his voice had dropped. It was the first time, as far as Shane could hear, that he was being completely sincere. Shane nodded, not knowing if Ryan could tell that he did in the dark of the room. “And can you give me an honest answer?” Shane nodded again. “If I wasn’t - if it was different. Would we be - friends?”

“Yes,” Shane muttered. “We’d be - friends.”

“Good. Good. Thanks. Yeah.”

“Can I ask you something?” Ryan hummed his approval. “If I was a - If it was different, would we be together?” 

Ryan chuckled lightly, his form moving in the dark and the sound lighting up Shane’s life. “I think we would be. Right?”

“Yeah. I- Yeah, I’d want that. If it was different.”

“But it’s not.”

“It’s not.”

Another pregnant pause. More thoughts and feelings swirling in the dark. And then Ryan, “if I was found not guilty. If I was - if the charges were dropped but you still know what you know, would we be together?” 

“I- I don’t know.”

“Yes you do,” Ryan replied. His voice deadly quiet. “You do. Maybe you don’t realise it, but you always know those kinds of things.”

“Like you know it’s okay to kill.”

“I like you, Shane.”

They were silent after that. Only their breath and the couple fighting a few rooms down were audible. An occasional rattle as Ryan moved his ankle. Somehow they had moved closer together through the conversation, and Sahn was extremely aware of that. He could feel the heat radiating from Ryan on his own skin. It was terrifying and amazing. He wanted to pull away and he never wanted it to stop. He wanted him to be closer and he wanted him to be far away. And he, and he, and he, and he. And he could kid himself all he wanted but Ryan was right. Ryan was right because Shane did know the answer to the question. He knew what he wanted to answer. It was like his heart was fighting his morals and he wasn’t sure which one his brain wanted to win. Not a feeling Shane enjoyed. 

More silence and then; “we would.”


	10. Chapter 10

When Shane woke up he found he had three problems. 1 - he regretted what he had said last night. Not because it was wrong (it wasn’t), but because Ryan now knew how Shane felt, which was the opposite of okay considering their situation. 2 - he had, at some point in the night, started spooning the shorter man. His legs were twisted around Ryan’s and his arms were wrapped around his torso. And 3 - he found he really, really, enjoyed this position. 

So yeah, a few problems. 

Ryan shifted slightly, pushing up against Shane and muttering in his sleep. Something that was so desperately cute that Shane had to remind himself (more than once if he was being honest) that Ryan was actually a very dangerous criminal. A man who had actually killed people. A criminal he had to go and hand over to the courts. Soon. They’d be in LA be mid-morning tomorrow and Shane would have to take Ryan straight to the precinct. For a moment he considered, just, not. Pretending to look away when they were about to get on the train and letting Ryan slip onto another. Let him go to Florida or Canada or where he was going to go. To Shane’s great horror he found that the idea of letting Ryan go didn’t make him sad because he wouldn’t solve the case, but because Ryan wouldn’t be with him anymore. The idea of letting Ryan leave his life hurt. It was also horrible to think about how he, involuntary, didn’t actually care that Ryan was a man who had killed. Multiple people at that. He found that it wasn’t a deal breaker. They weren’t thoughts that Shane knew how to deal with. 

“Stop thinking,” Ryan muttered sleepily. “You’re too loud.”

“You can’t hear my thoughts,” Shane replied trying not to tense up. 

“You’re so loud that I can. So shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”

Shane, unwillingly, detangled himself from Ryan. He sat up, stretching, while Ryan groaned that he was cold now. He wasn’t wrong, the air in the room was cold and he would definitely rather be under the blankets with Ryan pressed against him. But Shane still got out of the bed, Ryan’s groaning getting even louder as Shane moved. It wasn’t like he had that much, just a briefcase with some case related info and another set of clothes, and Ryan didn’t have anything with him. In fact, from what they could tell, Ryan hadn’t taken anything from his apartment. So Shane didn’t need to pack anything up but he still wanted to be ready for the train. 

“What’s the plan for the day?” Ryan asked, sitting up to watch Shane pace back and forth picking up the papers. “Can I guess?”

“Sure.”

“You’re going to go and get breakfast and we’re going to eat it in here. Then we’re going to wait for a few hours before heading over to the station. Probably earlier than needed, because you’re not going to miss the train. Then we’re going to get on said train and head to LA, and I doubt we’re going to get off the train the entire time. Am I right?” He asked, a smug look on his face. 

Yes, he was, that was Shane’s plan. Down to a T. But Shane really didn’t want to let Ryan know he was right. He didn’t want to see Ryan’s smug expression any bigger. So he shook his head, changing his plan on a dime so that didn’t have to lie, “not quite.”

“Oh?”

“You can come to breakfast with me. No point in going back and forth.”

“Oh, well done. Outsmarted me,” he laughed. “Can we go to the haunted restaurant?”

“No,” Shane shook his head. “Because it’s not haunted and it’s a bar and it’s breakfast time.” 

Ryan looked put out at the news. Pouting slightly and rattling the chains around his ankle a few times. “Can I have a shower?” He asked, “Driscoll was going to let me have one but then you turned up.”

“He was going to let you shower?” Shane asked, turning to the bathroom. He had to make sure it was safe for Ryan to be there alone. There was a window but it was small and really high up on the wall, so it wasn’t like Ryan could escape through it. “Why?” He checked the drawers for anything sharp, a pair of scissors were confiscated from the sink drawer and slipped in Shane’s pant pocket. 

“Because I asked. They were very nice people.”

“They arrested you.”

“So did you.”

“And?”

“And I’d be with you, so I clearly don’t have a problem with people arresting me.”

Shane rolled his eyes, “you’ve probably got a handcuff kink.” 

“Nah, they’re annoying if I’m being honest. But, wait, I’m backtracking. It could be-”

“You can have a shower,” Shane interrupted. “Ten minutes.”

“What’ll you do if I’m not out in ten?” Ryan asked as Shane undid the cuff on Ryan’s ankle.

“Handcuff you to the bed and I’ll go to the haunted restaurant.”

Stretching happily, Ryan stood from the bed. “So you admit that it’s haunted.” 

“No. Shut up and shower,” Shane muttered. Ryan snapped a salute before disappearing into the bathroom, the shower turning on. Shane sat down on the bed, head in hands and elbows pressing on his knees. He was more stressed than he had ever been, it was really getting ridiculous, he was stressed because he was falling for a criminal. Literally, the man he had been chasing to arrest these past few weeks and now he was falling for him. The shower shut off, alerting Shane to how long he had been sitting there. Ryan came out a moment later, a towel wrapped around his waist. Shane forced himself to look Ryan in the eyes. “Are you done?”

Nodding, Ryan went to the window. “It’s snowing,” he said. Shane turned, looking past Ryan and out the window. White snow was drifting down, coating the ground with a fine layer of the powder. A couple walked under their window, covered in coats and bundled against each other. Shane couldn’t help but feel jealous of them. “I’ve never even heard of snow this far south. I hate the snow.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s cold!” Ryan said, looking the most offend Shane had ever seen him. “I don’t like cold! I like the sun!” 

“Californians,” Shane scoffed. 

Ryan crossed his arms, and no Shane didn’t look at them and turned to look at Shane. “The cold sucks.”

“Not really.”

 

“I hate you.”

“Go and get ready, unless you’re going out in your towel,” Shane said. Ryan did, walking back into the bathroom complaining about having to wear the same clothes and how Driscoll had given him new stuff. Shane made sure he had grabbed all his things and that they were safely tucked away in his briefcase, including the paperwork Driscoll had given him. He couldn’t afford to lose any of it. Once he had his coat on, Ryan came out of the bathroom, taking his coat from Shane’s outstretched arm. 

The two of them made their way out of the room silently. Ryan had his wrists cuffed again, but his legs were free. The lady behind the desk looked at them and sighed lowly, taking the key without a word spoken. Ryan’s comment on her thinking they were kinky refusing to leave his mind. A few moments later they were making their way onto the street. It wasn’t all that cold to Shane, he’d grown up with snow, but Ryan was clearly not happy. He stepped closer to Shane, their sides pressed together and stayed like that as they started to walk. 

Bellas, the restaurant from the night before, was closed until after lunch so they continued towards a cafe. A bell going off when they walked in. The man behind the counter looked up, looked at Ryan and shook his head, pointing to the door. Shane went to explaining what was happening but was cut off. “Don’t care if it’s kinky or if he’s a mass murder. This is a family place and we’re not having that. Out.” So they walked out of the there, Ryan laughing freely and Shane trying to control his smile. 

Ryan gasped and hit Shane’s arm, “oh my god.”

“What?” 

“The only place open!” He was basically beaming as he pointed to the haunted restaurant across the road. “Either you uncuff me, which means I can, I don’t know, run? Or we go, Old Macks!” 

Shane groaned, but the two of them made their way across the street. The reception in there was much better than in the cafe. The server didn’t even bat an eye at Ryan, just pointing to a seating area and handing Shane two menus. The bar itself was everything Shane had pictured it to be. It was like something from the old west, a bar with a few ratty stools and an area to sit down, each table looked sticky and like they hadn’t been changed since the bar was first opened. Shane and Ryan sat down as far away as they could, the only other patron was a man slumped against the bar. 

“Just like Rita’s,” Shane muttered.

“Rita’s is much classier. And less haunted.”

“What are you hoping for? That a ghost is just going to come out and tap dance or something?” 

“That’d be great,” Ryan shrugged. They looked over the menu, both deciding on the breakfast burritos and a coffee and they didn’t speak until they had given their orders. “So, train and then jail?”

“You’re so casual about it. You have something planned, don’t you?” Shane asked Ryan shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone as happy to be going to jail, in handcuffs, as you Ryan Bergara. Most people are upset, or annoyed, or angry. Not, whatever you.” 

Another shrug as Ryan looked around, his hands resting on top of the table. One of the walls had a whole lot of newspaper clippings pegged to it, detailing the haunted activities. He turned back to Shane, “right now, I’m terrified,” he confessed. Shane sighed, he was clearly talking about the ‘ghosts’ and not his prison sentence. “But in general, I’m not all that worried. I-” he hesitated. Shane was starting to understand Ryan more and more, and right now he was almost positive that Ryan was actual hesitant and not just pretending. “I-” a small sigh. “I’m sorry. For not being - for the way this has all gone. I, I really like you. Even though you’re really, really, annoying. But I, sorry.”

“I’m sorry as well,” Shane said, covering Ryan’s cuffed hands with his own. The image causing Shane to blink back tears. “I, I wish it was different. If I could make it different I would. I really, really, like you as well. Even if all you’ve been is a pain in my ass.” 

Ryan was staring at their hands as well. “I guess that’s it. Right?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Shane replied feeling pain blooming in his chest. “I don’t see how this could work.”

“Even if I don’t get charged?”

“You’re going to be-oh,” he stopped talking when he saw Ryan shaking his head. He knew more than he was letting on. Another step in his plan. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know, Ryan. I’m sorry.”

“Because you know.”

Shane nodded, “because I know.”

“I would have never done it if I had known I’d meet you.”

“I feel flattered but I think I shouldn’t be. Don’t kill because it’s bad? Not because now we can’t date.”

“Still stand by what I did. The only thing that I don’t like is that we can’t be together. You were never apart of the plan, Shane Madej. I had everything planned and you came, and you ruined it. Because you’re a damn good cop and because you’re you.”

“You’re the one that told me. I didn’t figure it out.”

Ryan shook his head, smiling softly, “you were so close. You would have gotten it within the week. Too smart. Also, I messed up around you. Said things I shouldn’t have. I never got as personal with Brent or other detectives. You just brought it out of me.”

“Sorry?”

“Don’t be,” Ryan laughed. “Do something for me?” He asked, serious suddenly, Shane nodded that he would. “Think on your answer, really think on it. If I’m innocent to everyone else. Think about it?” 

“I will,” Shane replied, not taking his hands away.


	11. Chapter 11

The train station was, unsurprisingly, not busy. Shane and Ryan were sat on one of the benches facing the track and the only other person there was the ticket salesmen who looked more bored than anyone Shane had ever seen. Ryan was playing with the cuffs on his sleeves, deep in thought. Shane was tapping his leg, staring out and into nothing as he thought about the conversation he had had only hours earlier. 

It had just gone eleven thirty when the first signs of a train approaching happened. Shane couldn’t be any more grateful. He really did want to stare at the same dusty train tracks any longer. Especially not while he was thinking about the man who was sitting beside him - the man that he was slowly falling for. The lights flickered to life, a bell went. Shane picked up his bag and tried to push Ryan out of his mind. It didn’t work. 

At quarter to twelve, the train rolled into the station. It wasn’t like the new trains they had in LA, it looked older and dirtier. Probably more uncomfortable. It also wasn’t the train Shane had arrived on so that was a little bit disconcerting if he was being honest. Ryan sighed in relief when the train stopped in front of them, looking up and leaving his cuffs alone. One person got off, sending a forlorn look to Shane and Ryan before walking away and towards town. Shane and Ryan shared a quick look of amusement before making their way to the train. They got in the first carriage, where there was only one man sitting at the very back reading a newspaper that covered his face. 

They took the front two seats, Ryan beside the window because there was no way was Shane going to risk him being able to run and, to be honest, Shane was much longer than Ryan. The conductor arrived a moment after they had taken their seats. Punching their tickets silently and then handing them two newspapers. Ryan’s name plastered across the front page. Shane couldn’t believe his eyes as he read what was in front of him. 

‘Ryan Bergara Innocent?’

“No,” Shane said instantly, flipping to the appropriate article. “No. What is this?” The article was on the first page, the entire page was dedicated to the story. Ryan was watching curiously, shrugging truthfully when Shane sent him a confused look. It was a long piece but basically said that Ryan had been framed by the LA police force because they needed someone to pay. “This isn’t right, no, Ryan, what is this?”

“I didn’t tell them to do this,” Ryan replied honestly. “Do they mention you?”

“Shane Madej, the head officer on the case, has declined to make a statement about the allegations,” Shane read. “I didn’t even get asked to make a statement.” 

“I did tell them to do that.”

Shane’s head snapped to stare at Ryan. “What?”

“I said that they shouldn’t ruin you. That it wasn’t your fault.” 

“Who? Who wrote this article?” Shane asked, his voice edging on desperate. Ryan shrugged. “Ryan, this could ruin me, don’t you understand that?. This looks bad and it’s all on me and it’s - it’s a lie,” he paused. “Was it all a lie? Are you willing to sacrifice me to stay out of jail for something you did?” 

“No.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know. This was all put into motion before I meet you. I had nothing to do with this.”

The train lurched forward. Shane hadn’t even realised they were driving, yet he couldn’t see the train station behind them anymore. He couldn’t bring himself to care anyway. What did it matter where they were when they were talking about this? “You’re always one step ahead, aren’t you? You’ve always known what’s coming next for you. This is just the next step, get the public on your side for the trail. It might not save you but it might get you out of a death sentence. I can’t believe this. Which is stupid because you’re a criminal. I should have never trusted a word you said.”

“I didn’t know. All I said was to preserve your reputation and make sure you weren’t on the firing line. I sent them a letter just before I left. And it’s okay, I can fix this.”

“How?”

“I - I don’t know. But figuring this kind of thing out is what I do. It’s what I’m good at. I can do it.” 

Shane laughed cynically, shaking his head. “Yeah. Sounds great. Sounds perfect.” 

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said, looking ashamed. 

“This is -”

“It’s ridiculous.” 

Another jump of the train. Another tense silence fraught with worry and longing. Another moment wasted on the thought of the future. Another gaze into the other’s eyes. Another jump of the train. Another silence. Another worry and more longing. Another moment wasted. Another and another and another. And then bliss as lips finally meet. And then hands clasping at each other as bodies melded to be one. And then belonging as two people found their way to each other. And then another moment, another moment of love and passion and calm. And then another. And then another. And the moments blurred together just as Ryan and Shane blurred together. 

Ryan was the first to pull away. His breaths deep and rapid, a smile on tingling lips. Shane fared no better. His face was flushed, hair an absolute mess and eyes alight in a passionate fire that he never wanted to put out. Their hands stayed twisted together, resting on Shane’s lap. Shane rubbed his thumbs over Ryan’s hands, looking down at them. The shine of the handcuffs staring up at him. “Ryan.”

“Shane.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Shane confessed. 

“We could run away together.” 

“I’m not a criminal.”

Shifting so that he was resting his head on Shane’s shoulder, Ryan shrugged. “I guess not.”

“I’ve fallen in love with a criminal.”

“In love, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“No,” Ryan was grinning, “please tell me all about how you love me.”

Shane sighed, “nevermind. The feeling’s gone.”

“Oh, please. You l-oooooo-ve me.”

“And?” Shane asked, adopting a fake mocking in his tone. Trying to convey nonchalance but showing his true colours the entire way. Ryan really brought out the truth. “And what if I’ve fallen in love with you?” 

Ryan’s grin grew. “And I can’t believe I’ve fallen in love with a cop.” 

“Detective,” Shane muttered, Ryan laughing softly. “I don’t think my boss is gonna be happy.”

“I think I might get shot.”

“What?”

“If someone gets angry enough. I mean, it’s not like I’ve been shot at before.” Shane looked down with wide eyes and Ryan shrugged. Pulling up one side of his shirt to show a faint mark on his hip. “When I first started working I pissed off some people that I shouldn’t of pissed off. Now I have this and ties to the LA mob, both of which I don’t want if I’m being honest.”

The conductor walked past them then, not even sparing their curled up and close position a glance. “Next stop, West Jamestone, ten minutes,” he said in a booming tone before walking through the next carriage, the same statement echoing back to Shane and Ryan. 

“We could get off now, run away,” Ryan muttered.

“I like my job.”

“We can get you a job as a detective wherever we go,” Ryan replied. Shane scoffed, shaking his head. “So we’re going back to LA so that I can go on trial? Because I’m pretty sure we just professed our love for each other and shit. I don’t really want to go to jail after that.”

Shane shrugged helplessly. “I can't run away with you Ryan.”

“Pity, we could go to so many haunted places.”

~~

The sun was just starting to set and the train had just passed a sign welcoming them to New Mexico when Shane spoke again. The conductor had just passed them, going to the front of the train with a grim look on his face that Shane didn’t want to think about. They had been silent since Shane had scoffed at Ryan’s claim of visiting haunted locations, sitting a relaxed quiet as the train lulled them into a soft daze like state. After weeks of work, Shane was very much appreciated the feeling. 

He moved slightly, so Ryan was pushed up and into a sitting position from his head being on Shane’s shoulder. “I want to know your plan.”

“My plan?” Ryan asked sleepily, not fully awake yet. “What do you mean?”

“I know you have something planned, for when we get back, and I want to know what it is.”

“Why? So you can stop it?”

“No, so I can know what you’re doing. So I can go along with it.”

Ryan looked up, eyebrows raised. “You’ve changed your mind.”

Shane shrugged, “I don’t know. Look. I’ve fallen for you, which is dumb as fuck but here I am, and I because I’ve fallen for you, I don’t like the idea of you behind bars. Even if I can’t be with you, and I haven’t even started to figure that out just yet, but I don’t want you in prison or even found guilty. So I want to know what your plan is, and then I can so what I need to do.”

“Really?” Ryan asked and when Shane nodded sincerely, Ryan sat up straighter. “Okay, yeah, okay. So, the mob and I have worked together a few times and the guy in charge, Ricky Goldsworth - don’t tell anyone I told you that - and I are kind of a little friendly with each other. When you joined the case I messaged him, saying I thought you were going to catch me. We meet up, at Rita’s that morning we bumped into each other, and he offered to have you killed, I said not to and that we should put a plan in place instead. The plan was that I would run when I thought you were to close and publish that news article. But, uh, the news article doesn’t look like it was written by me and was left anonymously on my bosses desk, they can’t take it back to me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. And then I’d run to that town where I just was. The police there, Driscoll, how Goldsworth so they waited for a bit before messaging you because they were told to. Then we’d wait for you to turn up and take me back. During the trial, I’ll say that I thought the golden killer was after me because of some letters I got and I ran before the article was even published. No one can prove different. Not even now, because like before, we can just say that you’re so set in framing me that you’re lying.”

Shane was silent for some time, processing what Ryan had said. It was a lot. But it was smart. Everything was accounted for in some way - even a small slip up, if Ryan said something he wasn’t supposed to then they could say he was being framed. He couldn’t help it, he was impressed. It was impressive. And Shane couldn’t help thinking that Ryan had a lot to do with it. The mob, Ricky, would have tried to bribe Shane, and when that didn’t work would have tried to kill him. And they probably would have succeeded. At the very least they would have had him kicked off the case using their connection. Ryan had, from the beginning, kept Shane in the loop. Made sure he was on the case. 

But why? Shane’s mind went to the letters sent between them. The times they had sat down for interviews or for drinks. It couldn’t be that, right? Ryan wouldn’t keep Shane on the case, potentially jeopardizing everything, just so they could chat through coded letters and interviews on killings he had done. It seemed too good to be true for Shane. That Ryan, from the beginning, had done this. Yes, it did seem that way, but Shane couldn’t kid himself into thinking that he’d have done anything differently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They kissed! And they talked! Well done boys!


	12. The End

Ryan fell asleep soon after their conversation. His head resting on Shane’s shoulder and his breathing shallow. Shane followed suit, resting his own head on Ryan’s head and letting the gentle movement of the train rock him to sleep. Just before he fell asleep he thought of a life where he had meet Ryan normally, where they weren’t forced apart by who they were and what they had done. That led him to imagining a work where he got off the train at the next station. Where he and Ryan ran, going wherever they wanted to go and being together. He fell asleep with a smile on his face. 

~~

When they woke up the train was already in California, heading towards LA. Ryan woke up first, not moving so that he didn’t disturb Shane. Instead, he just stared out the window, watching the land race by. He had started regretting who he was - what he had done - the moment he had seen Shane. No one had ever done that to him, made him feel bad for killing people. And, in what was probably the most messed up part of Ryan’s life, he didn’t feel bad because of the act but because of the results. The fact that he couldn’t be with Shane weighed heavier on him than the idea that he was a serial killer. 

But it wasn’t like he could take back what he had done at the end of the day. He had done it and it was done. Now he just needed to figure out how to handle Shane Madej and all the feelings he had for the tall man. Ryan still thought that his idea - running away together - was the best option for them. If only Shane could ditch some of his morals like Ryan had done years ago. Then they could be happy together. It wasn’t like the mob didn’t pay well, he had plenty of money in hidden caches around LA. It would be easy. They were easy together already. They got along, even if they annoyed each other. Their fighting and bickering came naturally and left them both happy. Being together - actually together - would be like breathing. Ryan could see it already. 

Shane woke up soon after Ryan. He stretched his arms up and rolled his neck twice. Ryan stayed silent as he did so. When he was done he looked down at Ryan, “how did you sleep?”

“Alright, you?”

“If my legs were half as long, that’d be great,” Shane replied causing Ryan to laugh and look down at their legs. His knees were just resting on the chair in front of him, nothing to make him uncomfortable. Shane, on the other hand, was oddly bent so that his feet and ankles were under the chair in front and so his knees were pressing on the chair, so much so that the chair was actually pushing forwards slightly. “Yeah, yeah, yuck it up. I’m tall. It’s hilarious.” 

Ryan nodded, “it is.”

The conductor came through then, “we’ll be in LA in ten minutes. Last stop.”

They were silent after that. The joking mood gone as suddenly as possible. They had ten minutes before the media and other officers were swarming them. Ryan looked out the window again, the city clear in the distance. Shane looked down at his lap. In ten minutes he would have to attach the chains to Ryan’s ankles and would have to act the part of a detective. Would have to act like he hated Ryan, that he wanted him to hang. Shane found Ryan’s hand and squeezed it. “We’ll be okay,” Shane muttered. Ryan didn’t reply.

~~

Cameras were clicking even before the train stopped. From inside their carriage, they could hear people yelling. Luckily they were the only ones in the carriage, the other man had gotten off hours ago while they slept and no one else had gotten on. So no one was around when Shane pulled Ryan in for a kiss as the train slowed. They didn’t pull away until the train had stopped, pulling away with solemn expressions and downcast eyes. “I’m sorry,” Ryan whispered. 

“So am I.” 

TJ was the first person that Shane saw, he was standing in front of other officers who were trying desperately to keep the media back. Shane looked over at Ryan, who had put on a face covered in fear, he had to try not to scoff. Then he saw Devon, who was pushing past everyone else to get to stand beside TJ, who surprisingly didn’t say anything. The two of them stepped out of the carriage and onto the platform. Almost instantly people started yelling, they sounded outraged which Shane was used to. Devon was glaring at him and TJ came forward. 

“Why’s he in cuffs?” Someone yelled from the crowd. Ryan and Shane looked at each, the same expression of confusion on their faces. 

“Take the cuffs off,” TJ whispered when he got to them. “Or we’re going to have a riot.”

“Why?” Shane asked, not moving to take off the cuffs. Ryan just looked confused. 

With a sigh, TJ rubbed his face. “Ryan’s not the killer Shane. We found him while you were away. He’s in custody right now and the people are angry we were wrong about Ryan so take the cuffs off.” 

“What?” Ryan asked, clearly slipping up as TJ sent him a confused glance. Shane was still confused, it looked like everyone was. 

“Just take the cuffs off and come down to the station, we’ll explain it all there,” TJ commanded. Shane did as he was told, his movements stiff. Ryan stayed silent the entire time. Which made the crowd cheering when he was uncuffed even more prominent for Shane. Devon smiled and waved as they walked past, Ryan responded the same way - although his were much more robotic. 

They were taken to a car, officers keeping the media from getting to close as they walked. TJ offered to drive them but Shane shook his head, getting in and driving away before anyone could argue. He needed to talk to Ryan, alone, before they got back to the station. Ryan seemed to have the same idea as he rolled his window up as soon as they got in, ignoring the press right outside. They were quiet for a few more moments, neither knowing how to start. Finally, Shane spoke up. “Did you know?”

Ryan shook his head. “I have no idea what’s happening right now.”

“Who is it?”

“Someone who pissed of Goldsworth?” Ryan guessed. “They wanted him out of the way so they framed him?”

“If the jury isn’t rigged he’ll hang.”

“Goldsworth is, I wouldn’t call him a friend, but we’re close. And he likes me. Maybe he didn’t want me to die.”

“So you can keep helping him?”

Shrugging, Ryan turned to Shane for the first time since they got back in the car. “Yeah, maybe. And if it’s between dying and killing I’m gonna kill. Wouldn’t you agree?” Shane didn’t answer but the answer was obvious.

“You’re getting away with it. It’s amazing.”

“I’m smart. People always underestimate me.”

Shane nodded, “I did and you won.”

“I haven't won until you believe in ghosts.” 

“That’s not happening.”

“We’ll see. Hey, how trashed is my apartment?” 

“It’s pretty bad,” Shane muttered. He hadn’t been careful when he was looking through Ryan’s stuff. “Sorry.”

“I might have to stay with you for a while then,” Ryan shrugged, a sly grin on his face. Shane laughed and shook his head but didn’t answer. That didn’t matter though, the answer was rather obvious to the both of them. 

~~

The police station was exactly how Shane had pictured it. The media standing at the front doors, desperate for any news they could sell. Shane guessed that they only wanted Ryan and the actual killer. Nothing else would be worth it. Because he didn’t want to deal with that, Shane took them to the back entrance where no one was crowding the door. Ryan smiled at him grateful when he opened the door for him. Inside also had a lot of movement and noise happening. Detectives and officers were running about, shouting at each other and passing files and papers. Some of them stopped to look at Shane and Ryan, most didn’t care. A serial killer wasn’t that big of a deal in their life, and a suspected who wasn’t the actual culprit? Everyday stuff. 

They went to Shane’s desk, Ryan kicking back in the chair beside Shane who read over what he had missed. Devon and TJ came in, from the front, soon after. Devon rushing straight to Ryan and pulling him into a hug. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I knew that article wasn’t yours. You’d never written so many mistakes but I was just so shocked and everyone thought we should post it. We made it worse, didn’t we?” 

“It’s fine,” Ryan said. “Justice always wins, am I right? Besides, I told Shane it wasn’t me a hundred times.”

“You did,” Shane muttered. 

“I don’t have it in me to kill.”

Shane rolled his eyes. “Take it down a notch. TJ, what happened?”

“A few hours after you left we got a letter from the killer but it was stamped from LA, which means it couldn’t be Bergara. We traced the letter back to a known mob associate. He had letters from you in his house and had written one but hadn’t sent it to Ryan, saying that he was next. Clear cut.”

“Who was it?”

“His mob name is Night Night,” TJ replied and Ryan’s eyes widened. TJ looked down at him with a frown, “you know him?” 

Ryan shook his head, “off him. Every journalist knows off him.” 

“Well, we can prosecute him for these 18 kills. Doubtful he’ll get charged with everything else but we can try. He’ll hang for this anyway. It’s over.”

~~

“Guilty.”

~~

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re lying to yourself!” 

“Why would I lie about that?”

“I don’t know. Because you don’t want to admit that I’m right.”

Shane threw his hands up, shaking his head. “Because you’re not right.” 

“Am too,” Ryan replied. He didn’t have the liberty to throw his hands up, seeing as he was typing at his typewriter as he argued. But the sentiment stood. Shane, on the other hand, was pacing around their little living room so he had space to widely gesture as he spoke. “Ghosts are one hundred per cent real,” Ryan said and rolled his eyes when Shane went to argue back. “Stop denying it.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Shane muttered. “And they’re not real.”

“They are. Hey, what did TJ say about the case, the quote he said I could use?”

Sitting down on one of the armchairs Shane chuckled lightly, “you forgot an important quote on the latest story in LA?” 

“You stretched,” Ryan admitted. “I got distracted.” 

“He said that they were closing in on certain suspects,” Shane answered, a smug smile on his face. When Ryan didn’t reply Shane continued. “It means they have a few people that could be their guy and they’re watching them.”

“Thanks. Rita said that the guy’s blonde if that helps.”

“I’m not on the case so tell Brett.”

Ryan shook his head. “No, he laughs at me for believing in ghosts.” 

“Fair,” Shane replied, grinning when Ryan scowled at him. “I’ll tell him. What else did Rita say?”

“That she wants to be at our wedding.”

“How nice. I’d never marry you though.”

“Okay,” Ryan scoffed.

Shane grinned, standing and leaning over to kiss Ryan on the temple. “When will you be done?” He asked, gesturing to the typewriter. Ryan shrugged. “I’ll start on dinner then,” he lent down again and pressed a kiss to the top of Ryan’s head. Ryan looked up and retaliated with a kiss on Shane’s chin. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“And to think we didn’t know each other only a few months ago.” 

“I knew you.”

“Creepy.”

“You love it.”

In the kitchen, Shane scoffed loud enough for Ryan to hear. “Please.” 

“You’re denying it?” Ryan asked, stretching his arms above his head. He’d been writing for far too long. “I thought you didn’t lie. Police honesty and all.”

“You know, better than anyone, that police lie all the time. And I am not lying about not believing in ghosts.”

“Okay,” Ryan rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t!”

Ryan stood, abandoning his work for later and heading over to Shane. Shane put down the knife he was holding and wrapped his arms around Ryan’s neck, pulling him and into his chest. Ryan went happily, wrapping his own arms around Shane’s waist and resting his forehead on his chest. He was happy. Both of them were so happy, so in love. And absolutely full of warm light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's over. Crazy!
> 
> Thanks to everyone who read this and I hope you all like the ending :)


End file.
